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JBXCHANGB 
OCT    18  191^ 


The  Doctrine  of  Formal 
Discipline 


BY 

C.  K.  LYANS 


A  DISSERTATION  SUBMITTED  TO  THE  FACULTY  OF 
CLARK  UNIVERSITY.  WORCESTER.  MASS..  IN  PARTIAL 
FULFILMENT  OF  THE  REQUIREMENTS  FOR  THE 
DEGREE  OF  DOCTOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY,  AND  ACCEPTED 
ON  THE  RECOMMENDATION  OF  WILLIAM  H.  BURNHAM 


Reprinted  from  the  Pedagogical  Seminary 
September,  1914,  Vol  XXI,  pp.  343-393 


The  Doctrine  of  Formal 
Discipline 


BY 

C.  K.  LYANS 


A  DISSERTATION  SUBMITTED  TO  THE  FACULTY  OF 
CLARK  UNIVERSITY,  WORCESTER,  MASS.,  IN  PARTIAL 
FULFILMENT  OF  THE  REQUIREMENTS  FOR  THE 
DEGREE  OF  DOCTOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY,  AND  ACCEPTED 
ON  THE  RECOMMENDATION  OF  WILLIAM  H.  BURNHAM 


Reprinted  from  the  Pedagogical  Seminary 
September,  1914,  Vol  XXI,  pp.  343-393 


f     '.-     '^i-  f.    *r  y^. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 


By  C.  K.  Lyans,  Clark  University 


An  attempt  to  discuss  the  doctrine  of  formal  discipline  finds 
itself  balked  at  the  very  outset  by  the  question :  "  What  is 
formal  discipline?"  The  literature  on  the  subject  shows  a 
great  variety  of  definitions,  but  one  division  between  writers 
comes  out  with  special  clearness :  those  who  attack  the  doc- 
trine have  a  very  different  definition  of  it  than  have  those 
who  defend  it.  The  result  is  that  the  opposing  sides  in  the 
controversy  have  failed  to  clash:  dispute  has  tended  to 
magnify  their  apparent  differences,  and  has  minimised  their 
real  points  of  agreement — and  there  has  been  great  confusion. 

To  clear  the  field,  I  shall  take  first  the  definition  of  the 
doctrine  as  seen  by  its  foes,  and  as  seen  by  its  friends,  and 
seek  from  a  comparison  of  the  two  views  to  determine  what 
the  controversy  has  really  been  about. 

(i)  As  seen  by  its  foes:  Two  things  have  especially  occu- 
pied the  attention  of  those  who  attack  formal  discipline — 
they  have  seen  in  it  a  doctrine  that  training  is  transferable, 
and  have  found  its  basis  in  the  faculty  psychology.  Also, 
they  have  seen  it  as  a  doctrine  having  much  to  do  with 
the  selection  of  studies,  and  little  to  do  with  the  pedagogy 
of  instruction :  it  is  to  them  the  weapon  of  the  formalist, 
used  to  defend  subjects  that  have  lost  practical  utility.  Hen- 
derson defines  it  as  meaning  "  the  supposed  effect  of  study 
upon  the  mind,  entirely  apart  from  the  content  of  what  is 
learned."  Monroe  reiterates  the  definition,  but  amplifies  it 
much  further.  According  to  him,  the  doctrine  teaches  that 
"  a  particular  activity  or  experience,  especially  of  an  intel- 
lectual character,  if  well  selected,  produces  a  power  or  ability 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  expenditure  of  energy  therein: 
a  power  that  will  be  serviceable  in  most  dissimilar  experi- 
ences or  activities,  that  will  be  available  in  every  situation, 
that  will  be  applicable  to  the  solution  of  problems  presented 
by  any  subject,  however  remote  from  the  one  furnishing 
the  occasion  for  the  original  disciplinary  experience."  (i6,  p. 
508.)  His  discussion,  again,  is  followed  by  Graves  (10,  vol.  2, 
p.  309).     Since  all  agree,  however,  in  citing  Locke  as  the 


342023 


344  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

first  writer  who  clearly  formulated  the  disciplinary  concep- 
tion for  education,  especially  in  his  "  Conduct  of  the  Under- 
standing," we  have  in  that  work  a  basis  for  criticism  of 
such  definitions  as  that  just  quoted  from  Monroe.  There- 
fore, before  touching  on  the  views  of  contemporary  defenders 
of  formal  discipline,  I  shall  give  a  brief  analysis  of  Locke's 
doctrines : 

(2)  As  seen  by  its  friends,  Locke's  "  Conduct  of  the 
Understanding "  contains,  though  in  a  rather  unsystematic 
way,  some  treatment  of  nearly  every  factor  of  the  learning 
process  recognized  by  the  most  recent  psychologists — even  to 
the  influence  of  the  attitude  or  '  set.'  We  may  note  the 
doctrines  most  significant  for  our  purpose  under  five  heads : 

(a)  Reasoning.  Good  reasoning,  says  Locke,  demands  a 
large,  sound,  roundabout  sense,  "  conversation  with  many 
sorts  of  men,  contact  with  many  sorts  of  books  and  notions. 
If  one  would  reason  soundly,  he  should  "  take  a  taste  of 
every  sort  of  knowledge :  it  is  certainly  very  useful  and  neces- 
sary to  form  the  mind." 

(b)  Improvability  of  functions.  Under  this  heading  comes 
a  statement  of  what  Thorndike  calls  the  laws  of  use  and 
disuse :  Of  disuse,  "  The  great  number  is  of  those  whom  the 
ill  habit  of  never  exerting  their  thoughts  has  disabled."  (i,  p. 
207.)  Of  use,  "  We  are  born  with  faculties  and  powers 
capable  of  almost  anything,  such  at  least  as  would  carry  us 
farther  than  can  easily  be  imagined,  but  it  is  only  the  exer- 
cise of  those  powers  which  gives  us  ability  and  skill  in  any- 
thing." (i,p.  190.)  He  emphasizes,  however,  the  specific  char- 
acter of  training — which  is  the  more  significant  because  there 
was  no  controversy  over  the  question  of  specific  vs.  general 
training,  in  his  day,  and  therefore  any  but  a  very  careful 
thinker  or  writer  would  have  been  pretty  sure  to  use  gen- 
eralizations which  would  seem  to  ignore  the  specific  nature 
of  training,  no  matter  how  thoroughly  he  himself  believed 
that  improvement  of  functions  does  not  transfer.  Never 
having  encountered  any  other  view,  he  might  quite  naturally 
take  for  granted  that  no  other  view  was  held,  and  feel  no 
need  of  going  into  particulars.  But  Locke  did  go  into  par- 
ticulars. He  points  out  that  we  learn  to  dance  only  by  prac- 
tice in  dancing;  to  think  by  thinking;  and,  indeed,  that  even 
such  a  seemingly  innate  quality  as  ready  wit  in  conversation 
is  very  much  the  result  of  practice,  "  to  be  raised  to  that 
pitch  only  by  repeated  actions."     (i,  p.  191.) 

(c)  Transfer.  Yet  Locke  does  teach  that  training  may 
transfer,  although  he  has  emphasized  its  original,  specific 
character.     This  comes  out  strongest  in  the  case  of  mathe- 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  345 

matics,  where  he  even  uses  the  term  "  transfer."  He  says 
children  should  be  taught  mathematics  so  that  "  having  got 
the  way  of  reasoning,  which  that  study  necessarily  brings  the 
mind  to,  they  might  be  able  to  transfer  it  to  other  parts  of 
knowledge  as  they  have  occasion."  But  he  sees  clearly  that 
this  transfer  may  work  for  evil  as  well  as  good:  "A  meta- 
physician will  bring  plowing  and  gardening  immediately  to 
abstract  notions,  the  history  of  nature  shall  signify  nothing 
to  him."  And  again,  "  Some  men  have  so  used  their  heads 
to  mathematical  figures,  that  giving  a  preference  to  the 
methods  of  that  science,  they  introduce  lines  and  diagrams 
into  their  study  of  divinity  or  politic  inquiries,  as  if  nothing 
would  be  known  without  them."  (i,  p.  221.)  It  is  precisely 
because  too  wide  a  transfer  of  one  type  of  mental  habit 
ensues  from  a  one-sided  education,  that  Locke  insists  on  a 
many-sided  education.  He  insists — to  repeat  a  quotation 
already  given  above — that  one  should  "  take  a  taste  of  every 
sort  of  knowledge;  it  is  certainly  very  useful  and  necessary 
to  form  the  mind."  He  warns  against  the  uselessness  and 
danger  of  having  only  a  smattering  of  everything,  and  points 
out  the  necessity  of  mastering  one's  own  particular  subject, 
but  for  one  who  heeds  these  warnings,  "  the  end  and  use 
of  a  little  insight  in  those  facts  of  knowledge  which  are  not 
a  man's  proper  business,  is  to  accustom  our  minds  to  all 
sorts  of  ideas,  and  the  proper  ways  of  examining  their  habi- 
tudes and  relations.  This  gives  the  mind  a  freedom,  and  the 
exercising  the  understanding  in  the  several  ways  of  inquiry 
and  reasoning  which  the  most  skilful  have  made  use  of, 
teaches  the  mind  sagacity  and  wariness,  and  a  suppleness 
to  apply  itself  more  closely  and  dexterously  to  the  bents  and 
turns  of  the  matter  in  all  its  researches.  Besides,  this  uni- 
versal taste  of  all  the  sciences,  with  an  indifferency  before 
the  mind  is  possessed  with  any  one  in  particular,  and  grown 
in  love  and  admiration  of  what  is  made  its  darling,  will 
prevent  another  evil  very  commonly  to  be  observed  in  those 
who  have  from  the  beginning  been  seasoned  only  by  one 
part  of  knowledge.  Let  a  man  be  given  up  to  the  con- 
templation of  one  sort  of  knowledge,  and  that  will  become 
everything.  The  mind  will  take  such  a  tincture  from  a 
familiarity  with  that  object,  that  everything  else,  how  remote 
soever,  will  be  brought  under  the  same  view."     (i,  p.  215.) 

(d)  Attitude.  The  quotations  already  given  are  sufficient 
to  illustrate  Locke's  position  concerning  the  attitude  or  "  set " 
and  many  more  quotations  could  be  given,  for  his  doctrine 
on  this  point  pervades  and  colors  his  whole  treatise.  He 
recognizes   that  one  pursuing  a  given   subject   develops   an 


346  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

attitude  appropriate  to  that  subject;  that  one  whose  edu- 
cation, being  confined  to  one  subject,  has  provided  him  with 
but  one  attitude,  will  apply  that  attitude  to  all  subjects,  from 
not  having  learned  a  better  mode  of  attack;  and  therefore 
it  is  highly  desirable  to  provide  in  education,  through  the 
study  of  a  variety  of  subjects,  as  rich  a  repertory  as  possible 
of  **  sets,"  so  that  in  dealing  with  new  material — or  for  that 
matter,  even  for  the  sake  of  dealing  more  effectively  with 
the  old — the  mind  may  *'  apply  itself  more  closely  and  dex- 
terously to  the  bents  and  turns  of  the  matter  in  all  its 
researches." 

(e)  He  insists  on  the  importance  for  thinking  of  close 
attention,  pointing  out  that  habits  of  hasty  and  desultory  work 
result  from  its  neglect. 

This  plainly  does  not  square  with  Monroe's  description  of 
the  disciplinary  conception  in  education.  According  to  Mon- 
roe, that  conception  teaches  that  (i)  education  in  one  well- 
selected  subject,  rather  than  in  many,  is  best;  (2)  there  is 
unlimited  transfer  of  training;  (3)  education  in  the  right 
subject  defies  the  law  of  conservation  of  energy,  getting  thor- 
oughly disproportionate  results:  whereas  we  have  seen  that 
Locke,  whom  Monroe  takes  as  the  best  representative  of  this 
conception;  (i)  teaches  that  education  should  be  many-sided; 
(2)  holds  a  doctrine  of  transfer  differing  little  from  the 
"  identical  elements "  theory  so  generally  held  to-day :  and 
if  we  take  in  his  doctrine  concerning  the  attitude,  Locke's 
position  is  wholly  reconcilable  with  that  taken  by  Thorndike, 
perhaps  the  leading  opponent  of  the  disciplinary  idea,  in  his 
most  recent  work.  (3)  Anything  claiming  disproportionate 
results  for  some  particular  subject  is  nowhere  to  be  found  in 
Locke's  work. 

Turning  to  Locke's  other  educational  work,  "  Some 
Thoughts  Concerning  Education,"  we  find  in  his  remarks 
on  subjects  of  study,  a  corroboration  of  this  interpretation 
of  his  doctrine;  for  his  approval  or  disapproval  of  various 
subjects  rests  almost  entirely  on  practical  grounds.  Espe- 
cially noticeable  is  his  discussion  of  the  two  subjects  around 
which  controversy  since  his  time  has  raged  most  violently — 
Latin  grammar  and  mathematics.  He  disapproves  the  manner 
in  which  Latin  grammar  was  used  in  his  day,  on  the  ground 
that  the  language  could  be  better  taught  without  teaching 
grammar  at  the  beginning;  and  the  Latin  language  itself  is 
included  in  his  course  of  study  simply  because  "  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  a  gentleman  " — holding  then  a  place  that 
French  has  since  largely  usurped,  in  England.  Speaking  of 
mathematics,  he  limits  the  amount  of  geometry  that  should 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  347 

be  taught,  to  six  books  of  Euclid,  giving  as  his  reason :  "  I 
am  in  some  doubt,  whether  more  to  a  man  of  business  (i  e., 
man  of  affairs)  be  necessary  or  useful;  at  least  if  he  have 
a  genius  or  inclination  to  it,  being  entered  so  far  by  his  tutor, 
he  will  be  able  to  go  on  of  himself."  (i,  p.  149).  There  are 
a  few  remarks,  in  the  discussion  of  subjects  to  be  taught, 
that  have  a  slight  disciplinary  coloring,  but  the  impression 
one  gains  from  reading  that  part  of  Locke's  work,  is  that 
he  is  rather  too  indifferent  not  only  to  disciplinary  but  even 
to  cultural  values,  in  laying  out  his  course  of  study. 

The  fact  is,  Locke's  real  contribution  is  in  his  emphasis  on 
the  improvability  of  functions — precisely  the  thing  for  which 
Thorndike  contends  in  his  ''  Psychology  of  Learning  " — and 
his  theory  is  not  at  all  at  variance  with  the  doctrine  that  trans- 
fer is  a  matter  of  "  identical  elements."  On  points  of  detail 
there  are  differences,  but  they  are  traceable  wholly  to  dif- 
ferences in  analysis,  not  to  contradictions  in  theory.  They 
only  raise  the  questions :  what  elements  are  identical  ?  how 
are  we  to  decide  upon  the  identity  of  elements? — questions 
for  which  we  have  nowhere  a  decisive  answer  yet.  It  is- 
further  to  be  noted,  Locke  never  taught  that  "  the  process 
of  learning,  and  not  the  thing  learned,  is  of  importance." 
That  introduces  a  false  opposition — his  emphasis  was  on  the 
point  that  the  thing  learned — including  the  process  of  learn- 
ing— is  important  primarily  because  of  its  effect  on  the  mind 
and  character;  and  mere  unassimilated  memorial  learning  is 
worthless.  Monroe  recognizes  this  when  he  says :  "  One  of 
the  most  striking  of  Locke's  positions,  as  well  as  one  of  the 
soundest  of  them,  is  the  clear  distinction  he  ever  holds  in 
mind  between  education  and  instruction."  (i,  p.  515.)  This 
distinction  has  become  a  commonplace  of  educational  thought 
to-day,  thanks  to  the  work  of  Locke,  Rousseau,  Herbart,  and 
a  host  of  lesser  lights,  but  it  was  far  from  a  commonplace 
in  the  17th  century — and  even  with  us,  it  has  penetrated 
but  a  very  little  way  into  the  schools. 

When  we  turn  to  contemporary  writers,  we  naturally  find 
more  stress  laid  on  the  so-called  formal  side  of  education, 
since  this  is  the  point  against  which  the  opposition  has  directed 
its  attack.  Wendell  stresses  the  importance  in  education  of 
developing  concentration  or  will-power,  saying  that  hard  work 
of  any  sort  can  develop  "  increasingly  and  lastingly  muscular 
power  of  voluntary  attention."  ( 12,  p.  31.)  Miinsterberg  argues 
that  in  the  effort  to  learn  any  activity,  "  the  development  is 
specific — the  formal  training  of  the  will  is  general."  But  even 
the  "  specific  character  of  the  training  must  not  be  exagger- 
ated.    ...     By  training  for  baseball,  we  secure  general 


348  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

alertness  in  our  motor  responses."  He  further  insists  that 
(i)  since  every  mental  function  can  really  be  developed, 
"  one  side  of  mental  life  must  not  be  crippled  in  the  interest 
of  others,  as  long  as  general  education  is  in  question  "  and 
(2)  it  is  of  the  first  importance  that  the  voluntary  attention 
be  developed.  Our  education  tends  to  neglect  this,  and  so 
makes  for  superficiality.  (12,  p.  34-5.)  All  the  other  writers 
who  take  disciplinary  standpoint  also  emphasize  this,  that 
will-power  and  voluntary  attention  can  and  should  be  devel- 
oped by  education.  Judd  goes  more  into  detail  concerning 
disciplinary  possibilities  in  the  following  passage :  "  We  have 
been  in  the  habit  of  saying  that  this  or  that  kind  of  knowledge 
is  valuable,  and  we  have  not  really  meant  this  or  that  kind 
of  knowledge,  but  this  or  that  subject-matter.  I  believe  it 
is  time  for  us  to  take  an  entirely  different  view  of  what  is 
meant  by  the  term  kinds  of  knowledge.  The  ability  to  reason 
independently,  the  ability  to  retain  the  essentials  and  neglect 
the  non-essentials,  the  ability  to  carry  on  certain  types  of 
inquiry  in  any  subject-matter,  all  these  forms  of  ability  are 
more  important  than  the  ability  to  reproduce  a  body  of  par- 
ticular information.  The  meaning  of  this  last  contention  may 
be  made  somewhat  clearer  by  saying  that  what  we  need  in 
our  examination  of  the  high-school  course  of  study  is  a 
complete  restatement  of  the  values  of  these  courses  in  terms 
of  the  mental  habits  which  are  cultivated  as  distinguished 
from  the  information  which  is  gained.  We  are  just  at  the 
beginning  of  a  period  of  study  of  the  effects  of  education." 
(12,  pp.  39-40.) 

In  these  writers,  again,  we  see  that  the  stress  is  on  im- 
provability  of  functions,  as  distinguished  from,  but  not  neces- 
sarily apart  from,  the  subject-matter  through  which  the  im- 
provement is  effected.  As  a  matter  of  fact, — though  none  of 
the  writers  quoted  has  paid  much  attention  to  this  point — 
the  subject-matter  is  part  of  the  process  of  learning,  to  be 
taken  into  account  when  we  estimate  the  improvement  of  a 
function:  we  apply  our  knowledge,  not  mere  formal  mental 
powers,  to  new  problems — but  that  knowledge,  to  be  applic- 
able, must  have  been  assimilated,  organized,  worked  over  into 
something  that  looks  very  much  like  a  formal  mental  ability. 
"  Mathematical  ability,"  for  example,  is  a  knowledge  of 
mathematical  facts  and  principles  which  has  become  so  much 
a  part  of  oneself  that  he  uses  it  as  naturally  as  he  would 
use  sight  and  touch.  Even  "  power  of  observation  "  involves 
the  possession  of  facts  available  for  comparison,  and  of  prin- 
ciples— which  are  also  facts — to  guide  the  comparison;  as 
well  as  an  understanding,  to  be  gained  only  by  experience, 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  349 

of  the  resources  and  limitations  of  the  human  organism,  and 
of  the  best  methods  for  attacking  the  problem  to  be  faced. 
From  one  point  of  view,  all  this  is  simply  knowledge;  from 
another  point  of  view  it  is  pure  mental  power. 

The  second  point  especially  stressed  by  those  who  defend 
the  disciplinary  ideal,  is  that  the  power  of  voluntary  atten- 
tion, acquired  in  the  strenuous  pursuit  of  any  subject,  is 
generally  applicable  to  all  affairs  of  life.  But  this  is  only 
holding  that  the  voluntary  attention  which  keeps  a  man  at 
work  on  mathematics  is  identical  with  the  voluntary  attention 
that  keeps  him  at  work  on  a  case  at  law,  or  a  problem  of 
business  administration.  Thus,  whether  or  not  the  holders 
of  the  views  just  quoted  accept  the  doctrine  that  all  transfer 
is  explained  by  the  presence  of  identical  elements  in  the 
activity  from  which  and  the  activity  to  which  the  transfer 
occurs— and  most  of  them,  I  believe,  do  accept  it — at  any 
rate,  their  contentions  can  perfectly  well  be  stated  in  terms 
of  that  doctrine.  Indeed,  if  we  read  any  claim  that  a  certain 
subject  supplies  a  transferable  training,  we  find  it  devoted 
almost  entirely  to  pointing  out  elements  that  are  in  the  opinion 
of  its  advocate  common  to  that  subject  and  certain  other 
subjects,  or  certain  of  life's  activities.  The  defender  of  Latin 
grammar  and  translation  work  points  out  the  demand  which 
his  subject  makes  upon  powers  of  observation,  the  mathe- 
matician stresses  the  training  of  reason;  both  have  much  to 
say  about  the  development  of  voluntary  attention.  But  by 
the  mode  of  their  argument,  they  furnish  common  ground 
for  discussion  with  their  opponents.  Prove  that  the  observa- 
tion which  the  one  talks  about,  the  reasoning  power  that 
concerns  the  other,  and  the  voluntary  attention  which  seems 
so  important  to  both,  are  not  identical  with  the  activities  that 
bear  the  same  name  in  other  parts  of  life,  and  their  contention 
falls  to  the  ground.  On  the  other  hand,  grant  that  there  is 
a  real  identity  under  the  identity  of  name,  and  their  opponents 
must  grant  that  training  in  those  activities  may  transfer,  at 
least.  I  say  "  may  transfer,"  because  while  by  this  theory 
all  transfer  is  of  identical  elements,  yet  this  need  not  concede 
that  training  in  identical  elements  always  transfers.  Experi- 
ence gives  good  reason  to  believe  that  it  does  not.  The 
problem  for  us  to  investigate,  then,  is :  "  What  are  identical 
elements,  and  what  principles  control  the  transfer  of  training 
in  them?" 

I.    Experimental  Studies 

Owing  chiefly,  no  doubt,  to  the  fact  that  satisfactory  meth- 
ods for  comprehensive  investigation  of  higher  mental  processes 
have  not  yet  been  devised,  the  experimental  data  on  transfer 


350  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

are  almost  wholly  confined  to  tests  of  what  we  may  call 
peripheral  functions,  involving  very  little  of  the  higher  powers 
of  observation  and  reasoning.  Therefore  experimental  results 
prove  nothing,  unless  by  analogy,  about  the  existence  or  pos- 
sibility of  transfer  in  precisely  those  parts  of  our  mental  life 
where  it  would  be  most  important.  In  general,  there  have 
been  two  kinds  of  studies:  (i)  studies  of  transferred  improve- 
ment of  memory;  (2)  studies  in  the  transfer  of  sensory  or 
sensory-motor  skill.  Each  of  these  kinds  calls  for  some  gen- 
eral observations,  after  which  I  shall  discuss  in  detail  a  few 
typical  experiments. 

I.  In  the  field  of  memory,  any  physiological  explanation  of 
that  function  would  justify  us  in  expecting  to  find  absolutely 
no  transfer  of  training.  When  memory  was  looked  on  as  a 
sort  of  psychic  reservoir,  into  which  we  dumped  facts  until 
we  wanted  them  again,  it  was  quite  conceivable  that  use  or 
training  could  enlarge  the  capacity  of  that  reservoir ;  but  when 
we  conceive  of  memory  as  merely  the  tendency  of  a  neurone 
to  retain  an  impression  that  has  been  stamped  upon  it,  the 
only  possible  effect  of  repetition  would  be  to  stamp  that  par- 
ticular impression  deeper,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  the 
process  would  make  the  neurones  constitutionally  more  recep- 
tive or  more  tenacious  of  other  impressions,  no  matter  how 
similar  in  content  to  the  one  through  which  the  training  was 
received.  This  objection  holds,  no  matter  which  of  the  cur- 
rent views  of  memory  we  take.  The  only  conceivable  physio- 
logical correlate  of  a  direct  improvement  of  memory,  is  a 
change  in  the  actual  constitution  of  a  neurone  or  group  of 
neurones,  quite  apart  from  the  increased  sensitiveness  of  the 
neurone  or  neurones  to  the  stimuli  representing  the  subject- 
matter  which  furnished  the  original  training.  Any  direct  im- 
provement of  memory  as  a  function,  is  a  case  of  real  transfer, 
even  though  it  be  from  the  learning  of  one  list  of  nonsense- 
syllables  to  the  learning  of  another.  Not  only  is  memory  not 
a  faculty;  it  is  not  even  a  group  of  faculties:  there  are  as 
many  memories  as  there  are  things  learned;  every  new  thing 
learned  is  a  new  memory.  Memory  is  simply  a  property  of 
nerve  substance,  and  to  change  this  property  would  change 
the  substance — unless  we  want  to  postulate  a  psychic  ele- 
ment of  memory  which  may  change  without  a  corresponding 
physiological  change.  But  perhaps  memory  does  improve, 
and  the  constitution  of  the  neurones  does  change  as  an  effect 
of  training:  I  am  not  concerned  either  to  affirm  or  to  deny 
such  a  change,  but  only  to  point  out  that  if  there  is  actual 
improvement  of  memory  through  training,  it  can  only  be  ex- 
plained as  accomplished  in  that  way,  and  if  that  occurs  we 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  351 

have  a  case  of  not  transfer,  but  "  spread  "  of  training,  irre- 
ducible to  the  functioning  of  identical  elements.  For  practi- 
cal pedagogy,  I  believe  this  is  a  matter  of  small  importance; 
we  have  every  reason  to  think  that  the  amount  possible  of 
direct  improvement  of  memory,  if  any  at  all,  is  very  slight. 
Far  the  greater  part  of  all  gain  in  memorial  efficiency  is  more 
satisfactorily  explained  as  resulting  from  improvements  in  the 
technique  of  memorizing:  finding  advantageous  devices  of 
grouping  and  rhythm,  improved  methods  of  applying  the 
attention,  ways  of  invoking  the  aid  of  association,  and  in  a 
general  way,  getting  a  better  understanding — mostly  subcon- 
scious, to  be  sure — of  the  properties  of  the  nervous  substance 
with  which  memorizing  is  so  predominantly  concerned. 

The  physiological  conception  of  memory  has  crowded  out 
the  conception  of  memory  as  a  unit  faculty,  or  as  a  group 
of  faculties,  and  so  makes  it  impossible  that  we  should  speak 
of  any  general  training  of  memory,  or  of  any  considerable 
amount  of  specific  training.  But  at  the  same  time,  it  gives 
us  a  new  and  sounder  basis  for  ^  doctrine  of  general  training 
in  memorial  technique.  If  memory  is  not  a  faculty  function- 
ing as  a  unit,  yet  it  has  a  homogeneous  physical  basis,  for 
we  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  nervous  substance 
of  different  parts  of  the  brain  obeys  different  laws.  Conse- 
quently, so  far  as  improving  the  technique  of  memorizing  con- 
sists in  discovering  better  ways  of  applying  the  principles 
which  describe  the  behavior  of  nervous  substances,  just  so 
far  is  the  technique  an  identical  element  in  all  memorial  work, 
and  just  so  far  can  it  function  as  such.  None,  I  believe,  of 
these  general  principles  is  separated  out  in  memorial  work 
from  more  special  adaptations  determined  by  the  subject- 
matter  in  which  the  work  is  done,  but  a  glance  at  some  of 
the  facts  concerning  the  behavior  of  memory  will  serve  to 
show  the  presence  of  jthese  underlying  laws:  (a)  The  influ- 
ence of  the  task  and  the  attitude  (Aufgabe  and  Einstellung) . 
In  actual  practice,  the  task  and  the  attitude  are  different  things 
when  one  is  learning  nonsense-syllables  from  what  they  are 
when  he  is  learning  poetry;  but  in  both  cases,  the  task  of 
learning  so  as  to  reproduce  gets  a  different  result  from  the 
task  of  learning  so  as  to  recognize  the  right  order  of  the 
words.  The  "  set "  to  remember  for  five  minutes  gets  a  dif- 
ferent result  from  that  brought  by  the  "  set "  to  remember  for 
a  week,  (b)  Finding  optimal  groupings  and  rhythms,  and 
optimal  length  of  working  periods,  of  intervals  between  sit- 
tings, etc.  These  vary  immensely,  from  the  comparatively 
short  periods  required  by  nonsense-syllables,  to  the  long 
periods  that  are  favorable  with  a  subject-matter  of  a  kind  that 


352  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

is  interesting,  familiar,  and  significant  to  the  learner;  but  at 
the  bottom  in  all  cases  lies  the  fact  that  it  takes  a  little  time 
to  raise  the  function  to  its  highest  efficiency,  and  then  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  work  is  sufficient  to  bring  on  the  fatigue  that 
reduces  efficiency  to  a  fraction  of  what  it  is  when  the  function 
is  fresh.  There  is  good  reason  to  suppose  that  this  length 
of  endurance  is  a  constant  for  any  individual,  given  uniform 
conditions  of  health  and  general  bodily  efficiency;  and  that 
we  can  work  longer  at  significant  material  not  because  the 
neurones  can  stand  more  work  of  that  sort,  but  because  the 
significance  of  the  material  gives  any  one  neurone  or  group 
of  neurones  less  to  do,  spreads  the  same  amount  of  actual 
memorial  work  over  a  longer  period,  and  allows  breathing- 
spells  between,  (c)  The  use  of  association  as  an  aid  to 
memory.  This  of  course  dwindles  to  a  minimum  in  the  case 
of  nonsense-syllables  and  of  any  unfamiliar  material.  To  in- 
voke the  aid  of  association,  there  must  be  some  knowledge 
in  the  mind  with  which  associations  may  be  formed :  thus  the 
later  stages  of  learning  a  foreign  language  become  much  more 
efficient  than  the  beginnings,  because  the  basis  for  associations 
has  been  built  up.  But  our  interest  at  present  is  only  in  the 
physiological  principle  on  which  the  helpfulness  of  associa- 
tions for  memory  work  rests.  To  establish  an  association 
with  a  given  impression  is  equivalent  to  lowering  its  threshold. 
Without  the  presence  of  the  association,  the  only  stimulus 
available  to  reproduce  the  thing  learned  is  a  direct  act  of 
will:  only  an  impression  of  a  certain  strength  can  respond  to 
that  stimulus — in  other  words,  the  threshold  of  response  to 
a  simple  act  of  will  is  comparatively  high.  But  given  the  aid 
of  an  established  association,  we  have  a  more  adequate  stimu- 
lus, capable  of  rousing  to  response  a  weaker  impression — the 
threshold  of  response  has  been  lowered.  And  the  greater  the 
number  of  associations,  the  lower  the  threshold  for  the  given 
impression  becomes,  and  the  less  deeply  does  it  need  to  be 
stamped  in. 

This  is  sufficient  to  illustrate  my  point:  it  is  my  purpose 
here  only  to  point  out  that  when  we  conceive  of  memory 
as  a  function  or  property  of  nerve-substance,  we  destroy 
the  old  idea  of  a  general  training  of  memory,  but  we  must 
also  infer  in  the  place  of  the  old  idea,  a  new  conclusion, 
that  there  are  certain  laws  of  learning,  based  on  the  behav- 
ior of  nerve-substance,  which  are  as  general  as  the  nerve- 
substance  itself,  and  therefore  function  as  identical  elements 
in  all  memory-work,  and  furnish  a  medium  for  transfer  of 
training.  It  might  be  added,  anticipating  what  I  shall  de- 
velop more  fully  later,  that     the  actual  amount  of  transfer 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  353 

becomes  much  greater  if  the  functioning  of  these  laws  is 
brought  to  consciousness,  either  by  good  teaching  or  by  the 
intelHgence  of  the  learner  himself ;  but  I  believe  there  is 
always  and  inevitably  some  transfer,  until  the  limit  of  im- 
provability  is  reached,  though  the  transfer  may  be  obscured 
or  even  negatived  by  mal-adjustment  to  the  new  subject- 
matter  in  which  evidence  of  transfer  may  be  sought. 

Many  of  the  facts  about  transfer  of  training  in  memory 
are  clearly  brought  out  in  Fracker's  study  of  the  problem, 
which  is  one  of  the  best  that  we  have.  Preliminary  tests  were 
given  in  memory  for  (i)  poetry,  (2)  the  order  of  four 
shades  of  gray,  (3)  the  order  of  nine  tones  of  different  inten- 
sities, (4)  the  order  of  nine  shades  of  gray,  (5)  the  order  of 
four  tones — the  major  chord,  (6)  the  order  of  nine  geometri- 
cal figures,  (7)  the  order  of  nine  two-place  numbers,  (8)  the 
extent  of  arm  movement.  Tests  number  2,  3,  4,  and  5  were 
given  by  a  method  which  the  author  describes  in  the  case 
of  the  four  grays  as  follows :  "  The  stimulator  was  arranged 
to  expose  each  of  the  four  gray  disks  for  one-half  second,  an 
interval  of  one-half  second  being  allowed  between  each  ex- 
posure. .  .  .  After  the  four  grays  were  exposed,  a  blank 
remained  before  the  observer  for  four  seconds,  then  another 
arrangement  of  the  four  grays  was  given  and  another  blank 
exposed.  When  the  second  blank  appeared,  the  observer  re- 
sponded, giving  aloud  the  order  of  the  first  group  of  four 
grays.  After  the  third  group  had  been  exposed,  he  responded 
to  the  order  of  the  second  group,  and  so  on  through  the 
series.  In  responding  to  the  order  of  the  four  grays,  the  ob- 
server called  the  darkest  gray,  4;  the  next  lighter,  3;  the  next 
lighter,  2;  and  the  lightest,  i."  In  the  tests  of  nine  tones, 
only  four  intensities  were  used,  and  arranged  into  groups  of 
nine:  for  the  nine  grays,  the  four  shades  employed  in  experi- 
ment (2)  were  used.  After  the  records  of  the  test  series  had 
been  taken,  a  training  series  was  taken,  using  the  four  tones 
of  experiment  (3),  and  the  method  just  described.  Thus  the 
training  series  was  wholly  identical  in  method  with  the  series 
in  the  four  grays,  differing  only  in  the  use  of  tone-intensities 
instead  of  shades  of  a  color. 

It  was  found  in  the  course  of  the  training  that  all  but  two 
of  the  observers  recognized  a  peculiar  imagery,  out  of  which 
a  sort  of  mnemonic  method  was  built.  It  is  interesting  to 
notice  that  none  of  them  tried  to  improve  their  direct  memory 
of  the  four  tones,  but  all  immediately  translated  the  order  of 
the  group  of  tones  into  terms  of  position  in  space,  of  the 
serial  names  "  4213,"  etc.,  or  some  other  form  of  representa- 
tive imagery.     This  is  certainly  a  case  of  calling  an  easier 


354  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

type  of  imagery  to  the  aid  of  a  more  difficult :  it  would  be 
interesting  to  inquire  if  it  was  also  partly  due  to  a  half- 
unconscious  effort  to  enlist  the  aid  of  association.  But  the 
important  thing  for  our  problem  is  that  we  have  here  in  the 
training  series  itself  the  development  of  what  might  be  called 
a  manufactured  transfer.  With  every  one  of  the  observers 
who  recognized  a  distinct  method  of  remembering,  the  real 
training  was  not  at  all  in  memory  for  the  order  of  four  in- 
tensities of  tone,  but  in  memory  for  something  quite  different ; 
and  the  four  tones  were  only  treated  as  symbols  designating 
the  order  in  which  these  artificial  images  were  to  be  arranged. 
One  observer  had  a  system  closely  related  to  the  content  of 
the  tests,  for  he  imaged  the  loudest  tone  as  close  to  his  ear, 
the  softest  as  placed  some  distance  off,  and  the  other  two  in 
intermediate  positions;  but  another  had  a  purely  visual  sys- 
tem, made  up  of  different-sized  dots  arranged  in  a  vertical 
line.  There  is  certainly  no  identity  between  black  dots  and 
tones,  nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  these  dissimilar  images 
function  in  identical  neurones,  since  no  one  holds  that  the  vis- 
ual centers  and  the  auditory  centers  in  the  brain  coincide :  the 
only  real  identity  is  found  in  the  two  abstractions  of  "  differ- 
ence in  size  "  and  "  arrangement  in  serial  order,"  which  were 
common  to  the  dots  and  the  tones — that  is  instead  of  transfer- 
ence through  identical  elements,  we  have  transference  through 
community  of  an  abstraction,  which  is  transference  by  anal- 
ogy. Such  a  method  is  naturally  applicable  wherever  the 
analogy  holds  good,  provided  that  no  condition  is  arbitrarily 
introduced  that  interferes  with  the  smooth  working  of  the 
method,  as  in  the  case  of  the  four  tones  different  in  pitch, 
where  the  tones  were  called  "  Do,  Me,  Sol,  D0-2,"  in  the 
responses,  instead  of  being  named,  "  i,  2,  3,  4." 

How  far  this  transference  by  analogy  can  be  applied  de- 
pends on  the  intelligence  of  the  individual ;  on  his  ability  to 
discover  analogies.  How  far  it  will  be  applied  depends  again 
on  his  intelligence,  his  resourcefulness  in  devising  new 
methods,  his  ability  to  recognize  the  limits  of  economy  in 
transference.  One  observer  may  struggle  along  trying  to  apply 
his  method  by  forced  analogy,  in  situations  to  which  it  is  not 
at  all  suited,  while  his  more  intelligent  neighbor,  recognizing 
that  his  method  is  wasteful  in  the  new  situation,  will  abandon 
it  for  a  better  method,  even  at  some  temporary  loss  in  ef- 
ficiency. Fracker's  results  illustrate  both  these  points:  that 
there  is  gain  in  transference  by  analogy,  and  that  there  is  loss 
if  the  transference  is  carried  too  far.  The  former  point,  as 
I  have  shown,  appears  even  in  the  results  of  the  training 
series:  it  appears  again  in  the  final  test  series.     Those  who 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL   DISCIPLINE  355 

had  developed  a  definite  method  in  the  training  series,  both 
improved  most  in  the  training,  and  showed  the  greatest  gain 
in  the  final  tests.  Of  the  final  tests,  the  four  grays,  nine  tones, 
nine  grays,  and  four  tones  could  be  handled  by  the  methods 
developed  in  the  training  series,  but  the  use  of  names  instead 
of  numbers  to  designate  the  four  tones  interfered  very  seri- 
ously with  the  application  of  this  method  to  it,  as  several  of 
the  observers  testified.  The  other  three  of  the  final  tests  to 
which  the  methods  used  in  the  training  series  could  be  ap- 
plied, show  in  some  cases  a  greater  gain  than  was  made  in 
the  training  series — the  training  apparently  transferred  with 
more  than  hundred-per-cent  efficiency.  That  there  should 
be  no  loss  of  efficiency  in  the  transfer  need  cause  no  surprise, 
for  none  of  the  observers  was  really  training  himself  to  re- 
member the  order  of  four  tones  differing  in  intensity.  They 
all  took  the  tones  as  symbols,  possessing  an  obvious  serial 
order,  and  trained  themselves  in  remembering  some  sort  of 
images  in  the  order  designated  by  these  symbols.  Any  other 
set  of  equally  understandable  symbols  would  do  just  as  well, 
as  these  experiments  show. 

The  result  with  the  test  series  of  four  tones  is  an  interest- 
ing illustration  of  the  tyranny  of  method.  It  was  natural  that 
stimuli  so  notoriously  difficult  to  image  distinctly  as  differences 
in  intensity  of  sound,  should  be  translated  into  other  terms, 
but  where  the  subject-matter  is  made  up  of  differences  in  pitch, 
and  such  easy  differences  as  the  intervals  of  the  major  chord, 
it  is  unlikely  that  all  of  the  observers  were  incapable  of  learn- 
ing to  work  from  direct  imagery  of  the  sounds,  for  anyone 
who  can  carry  a  simple  tune  in  his  head  has  sufficiently  good 
auditory  imagery  to  succeed  with  it.  One  did  try  it,  but  found 
that  the  notes  tended  to  fuse  into  a  chord — an  unusual  experi- 
ence, surely,  in  the  field  of  auditory  imagery.  The  others  all 
applied  their  previously  formed  methods — unsuccessfully,  as 
I  have  already  noticed,  because  names  were  used  instead  of 
numbers — and  found  this,  which,  for  one  of  even  moderate 
auditory  imagery,  was  intrinsically  the  easiest  of  the  four 
tests  that  resembled  the  training  series,  to  be  very  much  the 
hardest.  The  method  transferred,  where  transference  was  a 
disadvantage. 

In  the  tests  essentially  unlike  the  training  series,  the  trained 
observers  again  showed  superiority  over  the  untrained  con- 
trol-group, which  suggests  that  a  transferable  mnemonic  sys- 
tem is  not  the  only  factor  in  improvement.  The  factors  that 
influenced  the  essentially  dissimilar  tests,  as  Fracker  points 
out,  were:  (i)  the  discovery  that  imagery  is  helpful.  The 
special  imagery  developed  in  training  may  not  itself  be  trans- 


356  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

ferable,  but  experience  with  it  suggests  the  idea  of  deliberately 
employing  some  kind  of  imagery.  In  the  training  series, 
imagery  had  been  unconsciously  developed,  and  only  recog- 
nized later,  (2)  "  The  factor  of  attention  and  its  control 
seems  to  be  an  important  one  in  improvement  and  transfer- 
ence/' being  ranked  second  to  imagery,  by  the  observers. 
(3)  Association:  but  this  factor  does  not  come  out  very 
clearly  in  the  experiments.  (4)  Automatisms.  These  may 
either  help  or  hinder  in  transference.  They  make  a  method 
less  adaptable,  but  where  the  method  can  be  applied  in  toto, 
or  at  least  without  change  in  the  automatised  factors,  they 
are  a  distinct  advantage.  The  great  improvement  in  the  four 
grays  in  the  final  tests,  and  the  small  improvement  in  the  four 
tones,  illustrate  both  points.  In  the  former  test,  every  au- 
tomatism could  be  transferred;  in  the  latter,  the  use  of  num- 
bers in  the  response  had  to  be  broken  up. 

II.  Sensory  and  Sensory-motor  Skill.  By  this  rather  in- 
adequate title  I  wish  to  designate  the  great  group  of  functions 
— using  the  word  in  Thorndike's  sense — that  have  much  to  do 
in  a  rather  superficial  way  with  things,  and  very  little  to  do 
with  ideas,  or  interpretations  of  things.  Such  are  Thorndike 
and  Woodworth's  experiments  on  estimating  areas  and 
weights,  in  perceiving  words  containing  certain  letters,  etc. ; 
Squire's  experiments  on  neatness ;  and  tests  made  by  various 
psychologists  on  localization  of  lines,  on  discrimination  of 
pitches  in  tones  and  shades  in  colors.  Even  Ruger's  experi- 
ments with  mechanical  puzzles  belong  mainly  in  this  group, 
for,  while  they  involve  mathematical  principles,  and  might  be 
solved  by  direct  application  of  those  principles,  yet  it  is  doubt- 
ful if  anyone  has  ever  applied  that  method,  and  Ruger's  ob- 
servers certainly  did  not.  They  simply  manipulated  the  puz- 
zles more  or  less  blindly  until  they  fell  on  the  solutions  by 
accident.  Experience  became  somewhat  of  a  guide,  but  only 
in  a  rule-of-thumb  sort  of  way.  I  shall  consider  the  data  in 
this  field  under  three  heads:  (i)  motor  skill,  (2)  sensory  skill 
(discrimination,  accurate  perception,  etc.),  (3)  general — 
those  activities  which  involve  rather  ingenuity  than  either  fine 
motor  co-ordination  of  especially  accurate  sense-perception. 

I :  Transference  in  motor  skill.  Of  the  numerous  experi- 
ments in  this  field,  most  seem  to  have  been  concerned  with 
transference  of  improvement  in  reaction  times,  where  motor 
co-ordination  is  of  the  simplest  sort.  Most  of  the  others  have 
been  of  what  I  might  call  an  "  unreal  "  kind — such  as  learning 
to  repeat  the  alphabet  forward  and  backward,  then  inserting 
n  after  each  letter  (AnBnCn,  ZnYnXn)  to  test  for  transfer 
of  improvement  from  those  as  training  series  to  the  test  series 


The  doctrine  of  formal  discipline  35? 

AxBxCx,  etc.  They  lead  on  the  whole  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  transfer  of  training  in  such  work  is  very  limited.  A  test 
much  more  comparable  to  problems  of  real  life  was  made  by 
Scholkow  and  Judd,  who  tested  boys  of  grades  5  to  6  in 
school,  at  hitting  a  target  under  water.  I  quote  their  report : 
"  One  group  of  boys  was  given  a  full  theoretical  explanation 
of  refraction.  The  other  group  of  boys  was  left  to  work  out 
experience  without  theoretical  training.  These  two  groups 
began  practice  with  the  target  under  twelve  inches  of  water. 
It  is  a  very  striking  fact  that  in  the  first  series  of  trials  the 
boys  who  knew  the  theory  of  refraction  and  those  who  did 
not,  gave  about  the  same  results.  That  is,  theory  seemed  to 
be  of  no  value  in  the  first  tests.  All  the  boys  had  to  learn 
how  to  use  the  dart,  and  theory  proved  to  be  no  substitute 
for  practice.  At  this  point  the  conditions  were  changed.  The 
twelve  inches  of  water  were  reduced  to  four.  The  differences 
between  the  two  groups  of  boys  now  came  out  very  strikingly. 
The  boys  without  theory  were  ve^  much  confused.  The 
practice  gained  with  twelve  inches  of  water  did  not  help  them 
with  four  inches.  Their  errors  were  large  and  persistent.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  boys  who  had  the  theory,  fitted  themselves 
to  four  inches  very  rapidly."  (15,  p.  37.)  There  is  one  impor- 
tant difference  in  method,  which  no  one  has  observed,  between 
this  and  all  the  other  transfer-tests  yet  published.  Instead  of 
taking  the  record  of  a  single  test  with  the  water  at  four  inches 
as  the  measure  of  relative  improvement  for  the  boys  with  and 
the  boys  without  theory,  the  experimenters  gave  a  fairly  long 
training  in  the  changed  conditions,  and  measured  the  relative 
rates  of  improvement.  The  record  for  the  first  few  trials 
at  a  depth  of  four  inches  is  not  given,  but  it  would  have  shown 
a  much  smaller  gain,  at  the  best,  for  the  boys  with  the  theory, 
than  the  record  showed  as  it  was  actually  taken.  If  we 
compare  the  usual  method  of  testing  for  transfer,  with  the 
"  method  of  free  reproduction "  in  association  tests,  then 
Judd's  method  in  this  experiment  is  analogous  to  the  "  saving 
method."  Besides  this  point  of  method,  there  are  two  points 
especially  important  in  the  results:  (i)  without  a  certain 
minimum  of  experience,  theory  can  afford  no  help;  (2)  given 
that  minimum  of  experience,  theory  is  transferable  to  all 
analogous  situations,  to  great  advantage. 

Experience  in  every-day  life  bears  out  this  conclusion. 
That  athletic  experience  can  and  does  transfer  with  a  high 
degree  of  efficiency  is  a  matter  of  common  knowledge :  experi- 
ence in  football  often  facilitates  the  learning  of  basket-ball; 
experience  in  baseball  helps  in  tennis.  This  observation  is 
not  to  be  ruled  out  of  court  on  the  ground  that  the  person 


358  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

whose  experience  seemed  to  transfer  was  only  better  in  natural 
ability,  for  the  one  who  began  tennis,  for  example,  without 
previous  experience  in  other  sports,  sometimes  proves  his 
superior  native  ability  by  ultimately  outstripping  his  opponent 
whose  athletic  training  had  given  an  initial  advantage.  The 
transference  can  be  explained  by  the  theory  of  identical  ele- 
ments. But  I  can  speak  with  fuller  knowledge  in  the  field  of 
music.  Mastery  of  one  instrument  does  make  it  easier  to 
learn  another,  quite  apart  from  the  advantage  gained  by 
learning  to  read  music  and  keep  time.  Mastery  of  two  or 
three  instruments  gives  a  tremendous  advantage  in  the  early 
stages  of  learning  a  new  one,  though  after  this  initial  ad- 
vantage, in  which  a  saving  of  as  much  as  two  years'  work 
may  be  made,  then  progress  is  no  more  rapid  than  for  one 
of  the  same  attainments  who  knows  no  other  instrument.  I 
shall  cite  one  case  which  I  had  a  chance  to  observe  very 
carefully.  An  amateur  violinist  of  good  average  ability,  and 
given  to  theorizing  on  the  principles  underlying  the  rules  of 
technique,  took  a  few  months'  lessons  on  the  piano.  In 
laboratory  tests  his  reaction  times  were  found  somewhat  slow, 
and  his  accuracy  in  remembering  movements  of  forearm  and 
upper  arm  was  not  above  the  average.  But  his  rate  of  learn- 
ing on  the  piano  was  at  first  very  rapid,  scales  were  readily 
learned,  independence  of  finger  action,  especially  required  in 
using  both  hands  at  once,  was  easy,  and  he  acquired  within 
two  months  considerable  readiness  at  playing  loud  and  soft 
simultaneously  with  different  fingers  of  the  same  hand,  and 
at  playing  simultaneously  legato  and  staccato — in  simple 
pieces,  of  course.  The  correct  action  for  the  staccato  touch 
was  learned  in  three  lessons.  Curiously  enough,  while  the 
advantage  of  training  had  been  with  the  left  hand,  that  hand 
proved  awkward  and  troublesome  on  the  piano,  while  the 
right  hand  fell  quickly  into  correct  habits,  and  apparently  was 
superior  even  in  strength.  This  suggests  that  the  direct  mus- 
cular training  acquired  on  the  violin  was  the  least  factor  in 
the  transference,  and  that  the  gain  was  almost  wholly  due  to 
a  better  understanding  of  the  conditions  of  muscular  training : 
particularly  a  greater  power  of  sound  self-criticism.  The 
student  had  learned  to  recognize  when  an  action  '*  felt "  right, 
and  where  to  look  for  faults  when  it  did  not.  It  is  further 
significant,  that  he  showed  least  advantage  from  previous 
training,  in  the  one  place  where  understanding  can  least  take 
the  place  of  plodding  work  in  muscular  habituation :  in  learn- 
ing to  estimate  accurately  the  distances  on  the  keyboard  for 
various  musical  intervals  he  had  little  advantage  over  an  un- 
trained student,  and  had  gained  but  little  fluency  by  the  end 
of  his  period  of  study. 


th£  doctrine  of  formal  discipline  3S9 

2:  Transference  in  sensory  skill.  It  may  seem  an  abuse 
of  words  to  speak  of  sensory  "  skill,"  since  we  think  of  skill 
as  essentially  motor:  but  ability  to  discriminate  shades  in 
color,  differences  of  pitch,  intensity,  and  quality  in  tone,  length 
and  form  in  lines  in  figures,  etc.,  certainly  is  at  least  analogous 
to  what  we  call  skill  in  the  use  of  the  limbs  and  muscles.  The 
experimental  data  in  this  field  are  not  very  satisfactory.  Two 
of  the  most  often  quoted  studies  are  that  reported  by  Thorn- 
dike  and  Wood  worth  in  1901,  and  that  reported  by  Coover  and 
Angell  in  1907.  Since  they  come  from  what  are  generally 
regarded  as  opposing  camps,  we  may  reach  something  like 
reliable  conclusions  by  checking  them  off  against  each  other. 
Thorndike's  experiments  tested  the  gain  in  accuracy  of  judg- 
ing the  areas  of  various-shaped  figures  from  10  to  100  sq. 
cm.  in  size,  of  rectangles  from  140-300  sq.  cm.  in  size, 
and  of  various-shaped  figures  from  140-400  sq.  cm.  in  size: 
after  practising  the  observers  on  a  training  series  in  estimat- 
ing the  areas  of  rectangles  from  10  to  100  sq.  cm.  in  size. 
They  also  reported  other  experiments  with  lines  and  weights, 
resting  on  the  same  principle.  The  tests  in  ability  to  perceive 
words  containing  certain  letters  have  to  do  with  quite  a  dif- 
ferent thing  than  sensory  skill,  and  hence  will  not  be  discussed 
here.  The  results  show  an  undoubted  transfer  of  training, 
which  the  investigators  explain  as  due  to  (i)  acquisition  of 
certain  improvements  in  mental  standards  of  areas ;  (2)  learn- 
ing to  make  allowance  for  constant  error.  "  That  there  was 
no  influence  due  to  a  mysterious  transfer  of  practice,  to  an 
unanalyzable  property  of  mental  function,  is  evidenced  by  the 
total  lack  of  improvement  in  the  functions  tested  in  the  case 
of  some  individuals  "  (27,  p.  276).  Here  we  see,  what  we  have 
already  noticed  in  other  fields,  that  the  chief  gain  is  rather 
in  an  improved  power  of  the  understanding  to  find  short-cuts 
in  dealing  with  material,  than  in  an  increased  efficiency  of  the 
sense  or  senses  themselves.  Our  instruments  do  not  improve : 
we  only  learn  to  use  them  better.  Those  who  do  not  learn 
to  use  their  instruments — the  muscles  and  senses — from  prac- 
tice, show  little  or  no  transfer  of  improvement  from  the 
practice.  Thorndike  and  Woodworth  explicitly  recognize  this. 
They  remark :  "  With  some  subjects  in  some  cases  the  new 
ideas  or  the  refinement  of  old  ideas  produced  by  the  training 
seem  impotent  to  influence  judgments  with  slightly  different 
data."     (27,  p.  395.) 

Coover  and  Angell  tested  the  improvement  in  discriminat- 
ing shades  of  gray,  after  a  course  of  training  in  discrimina- 
tion of  intensities  of  sound.  The  fact  that  the  control-group 
actually  got  worse  between  the  preliminary  and  the  final  re- 
sults, makes  one  rather  uneasy  about  the  reliability  of  the 


360  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL   DISCIPLINE 

results:  we  should  like  a  little  firmer  assurance  that  such  is 
the  normal  effect  in  this  kind  of  work,  before  accepting  these 
results  as  final.  But  even  allowing  for  this  weak  spot  in  the 
tests,  it  is  generally  admitted  that  they  prove  the  existence 
of  some  transfer:  the  only  dispute  is  as  to  how  much  they 
show.  In  explaining  the  results,  the  authors  say:  Improve- 
ment seems  to  consist  of  divesting  the  essential  process  of 
the  unessential  factors,  freeing  judgments  from  illusions,  to 
which  the  unnecessary  and  often  fantastic  imagery  gives  rise, 
and  of  obtaining  a  uniform  state  of  attention  which  is  less 
than  the  maximum.  .  .  .  The  factors  in  this  transfer  are 
due  in  great  part  to  habituation  and  to  a  more  economic 
adaptation  of  attention,  i.  e.,  are  general  rather  than  special 
in  character."  (4,  pp.  333-4.)  Instead  of  speaking  of  the  fac- 
tors as  ''  general  rather  than  special  in  character,"  it  is  less 
ambiguous  to  say  that  they  are  central  rather  than  peripheral ; 
that  the  improvement  is  due  to  a  better  understanding  of  and 
use  of  the  psychophysical  organism — or  that  part  of  it  in- 
volved in  the  process  studied — rather  than  to  a  change  in  the 
constitution  of  the  organism.  Thorndike  and  Angell  are  at 
one  on  this  point,  though  I  believe  they  do  not  recognize  the 
fact.  Both  deny  the  spread  of  training — to  any  great  extent, 
at  least — through  a  change  in  the  physical  factors  (the  muscles 
and  senses),  and  both  stress  the  importance  of  the  mental 
factors.  Their  differences  are  in  the  view  they  take  of  some 
of  the  higher  mental  functions.  For  Angell,  attention  is  one 
function;  for  Thorndike,  it  is  many:  in  the  one  case,  it  can 
be  thought  of  as  functioning  more  generally  than  in  the  other. 
Concerning  the  question  involved  in  this  dispute,  I  shall  have 
more  to  say  later:  for  the  present,  the  important  thing  to 
notice  is  their  agreement  that  the  chief  factors  in  the  transfer 
of  improvement  found  in  their  experiments,  are  mental.  The 
senses  involved  have  not  become  appreciably  finer,  subtler,  in 
their  responses  to  stimuli,  but  the  mind  has  learned  better 
how  to  put  them  to  work,  and  how  to  read  their  reports. 

3:  General.  Transference  in  problem-solving.  Under  this 
heading  I  shall  take  Squire's  and  Ruediger's  experiments  on 
neatness,  and  Ruger's  experiments  with  mechanical  puzzles, 
as  typical.  Squire  found  in  tests  of  children  in  the  interme- 
diate grades  that  efforts  to  teach  the  children  neatness  in 
the  arithmetic  papers  brought  about  a  marked  improvement 
in  those  papers,  but  an  actual  decrease  in  both  neatness  and 
accuracy  in  language  and  spelling  papers.  The  explanation 
is  obvious  when  we  reflect  that  improvement  involves  two 
factor^,  the  will  to  be  neat,  and  the  ability  to  accomplish  neat- 
ness.   Neatness  is  not  a  characteristic  virtue  of  the  elementary 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL   DISCIPLINE  361 

grades,  and  when  the  teachers  would  pester  the  children  about 
their  arithmetic  papers,  the  children  naturally  made  up  for 
it  by  slighting  their  other  work,  so  long  as  nothing  was  said 
about  that.  The  experiment  should  have  been  carried  further. 
By  dropping  the  emphasis  on  neatness  in  arithmetic,  and  turn- 
ing the  attention  to  the  spelling  papers,  the  investigators  would 
almost  certainly  have  found  a  marked  falling  off  in  neatness 
of  the  arithmetic  papers — though  not  a  complete  return  to 
the  old  standard — and  would  have  found  improvement  more 
rapid  in  the  new  subject  than  in  the  former  one.  Given  the 
will  to  be  neat,  the  skill  acquired  in  the  work  on  arithmetic 
papers  can  perfectly  well  be  transferred  to  work  on  other 
papers:  but  the  amount  of  automatic,  involuntary  transfer 
from  one  activity  to  another  is  certain  to  be  small.  Ruediger 
partially  recognized  this  fact,  and  made  a  series  of  tests  on 
neatness,  in  which,  besides  working  actively  for  neatness  in 
one  subject,  the  teachers  continually  brought  the  ideal  of  neat- 
ness before  the  children,  though  making  no  special  allusion  to 
the  other  school  subjects.  The  result  was  an  unquestionable 
improvement  on  the  average  in  all  subjects,  though  the  im- 
provement was  greatest  in  the  subject  where  it  was  em- 
phasized. But  while  these  tests  found  a  half-unconscious 
transfer  of  the  will  to  be  neat,  they  do  not  attempt  to  discover 
how  far  skill  in  neatness  can  be  transferred  by  conscious, 
deliberate  effort. 

Ruger's  report  on  his  tests  with  mechanical  puzzles  is  full 
of  instructive  material  on  the  learning  process,  but  only  his 
data  and  comments  on  transfer  will  be  noted  here.  He  reports 
three  tests  on  the  transfer  of  specific  motor  habits: 

(i)  *' A  subject  was  tested  with  a  puzzle  thrown  in  chance 
positions,  then  trained  to  approximately  the  physiological  limit 
in  handling  four  special  but  important  positions.  He  devel- 
oped no  general  rule  to  include  his  treatment  of  these  special 
positions.  Another  subject  was  trained  entirely  with  chance 
positions,  in  a  series  approximately  half  the  length  of  the  first 
subject's  series.  The  second  tests  of  the  first  subject  showed 
no  improvement  over  the  initial  results,  and  were  inferior 
to  those  of  the  second  subject.  This  failure  to  profit  by  the 
highly  specialized  training  seems  to  have  been  due  to  the 
lack  of  a  generalized  rule  of  procedure.  As  it  was,  each 
chance  position  was  first  reduced  to  one  of  the  four  special 
positions  and  then  the  solution  was  proceeded  with  instead  of 
being  performed  directly."     (23,  p.  18.) 

(2)  "A  certain  puzzle  was  so  arranged  that  it  could  be 
presented  in  various  forms.  The  manipulations  for  these 
various  forms  could  all  be  comprised  under  a  single  formula. 


362  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

This  general  formula  could  be  deduced  from  any  one  of 
these  special  forms.  A  number  of  subjects  were  tried  with 
this  puzzle.  As  soon  as  skill  was  acquired  in  dealing  with 
one  form  of  the  puzzle  it  was  changed  to  another  form.  The 
subjects  who  developed  the  general  formula  during  the  solu- 
tion of  the  first  form  were  able  to  use  the  specialized  habits 
built  up  in  the  first  form  in  the  second.  Those  who  formed 
merely  the  special  habits  without  developing  the  principle  at- 
tempted to  carry  over  the  habits  without  modification  and 
were  greatly  embarrassed  by  the  change. 

(3)  "A  subject  was  tested  with  a  puzzle  in  a  given  form. 
Then  all  the  motor  habits  necessary  for  the  rapid  solution  of 
this  form  were  built  up  by  practice  in  the  separate  acts  of 
manipulation  involved.  The  elements  were  organically  related 
in  the  successive  forms  of  the  practice  series,  so  that  the  prac- 
tice was  not  on  the  separate  elements  merely  but  on  their 
connections.  At  the  close  of  the  practice  series  the  subject 
was  given  the  complete  form,  which  was  identical  with  that 
of  the  initial  test.  This  form  was  not  recognized  as  being 
related  to  the  practice  series,  and  the  habits  built  up  there 
were  not  brought  into  use. 

"  In  genera],  the  value  of  specific  habits  under  a  change  of 
conditions  depended  directly  on  the  presence  of  a  general  idea 
which  would  serve  for  their  control." 

This  is  fully  in  harmony,  we  see,  with  the  principle  already 
stated,  that  most,  if  not  all,  transfer  is  central,  not  peripheral. 
An  idea  or  an  ideal  can  be  readily  adapted,  adjusted  to  the 
new  conditions :  a  motor,  sensory,  or  sensory-motor  habit,  if 
highly  developed,  must  be  taken  over  unchanged,  or  changed 
at  the  cost  of  much  effort ;  while  if  it  is  not  highly  developed, 
little  is  gained  by  its  transference.  A  new  habit  could  almost 
as  easily  be  built  up. 

The  report  just  quoted  raises  the  question:  why  do  motor 
habits  sometimes  transfer  when  they  should  not,  and  not 
transfer  when  they  should?  The  answer  is  fairly  obvious  in 
this  particular  case:  the  transfer  resulted  from  a  mistaken 
assumption  of  similarity  in  the  two  cases  (see  above,  Ruger 
experiment  2)  ;  the  failure  to  transfer  (Ruger,  3)  from  non- 
observance  of  similarity.  When  we  turn  to  every-day  experi- 
ences, however,  the  problem  seems  more  intricate,  for  we  find 
cases  of  transfer  occurring  even  against  the  will  of  the  agent, 
and  non-transference  where  the  agent  is  actively  trying  to 
bring  the  habits  into  play  which  refuse  to  transfer.  The 
solution  of  the  problem  is,  I  think,  substantially  the  same 
as  before,  except  that  in  place  of  conscious  perception  of  simi- 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  363 

larity,  we  have  a  more  or  less  unconscious  reaction  to  simi- 
larity, which  calls  up  the  seemingly  most  appropriate  "  set," 
and  with  it,  the  habits  which  long-continued  practice  has  as- 
sociated with  it:  the  undesired  habits  thus  called  in  crowd 
out  the  other  habits  whose  transfer  is  desired.  Apparently 
we  can  only  approach  just  so  close  to  the  groove  of  an  estab- 
lished habit  without  slipping  in,  willy-nilly. 

We  conclude,  then,  that  "  improvement  of  functions  "  by 
training  is  wholly,  or  almost  wholly,  central,  not  peripheral 
— ^not  a  new  doctrine,  certainly,  but  one  whose  consequences 
have  been  often  overlooked  even  by  those  who  hold  it.  Me- 
morial work  does  not  train  the  memory  either  as  a  whole  or 
in  part :  it  merely  stamps  in  certain  impressions.  Motor  work 
does  not  train  a  *'  motor  function  " ;  it  only  forms  certain 
motor  habits,  or  tendencies  to  repeat  the  specific  acts  that 
were  performed  in  that  work.  These  habits  do  not  transfer 
even  to  the  most  similar  situations  unless  the  similarity  is 
taken  for  identity;  and  in  that  case  they  transfer  unchanged: 
nor  do  they  have  any  immediate  effect  in  making  other  habits 
easier  to  form.  But  in  doing  motor  work,  or  memory  work, 
we  can  also  observe  how  it  was  done,  and  use  the  "  know 
how  "  thus  acquired  to  make  our  next  bit  of  work  more  ef- 
ficient. Experience  can  teach  us  how  the  memory  behaves, 
just  as  it  teaches  a  mechanic  the  behavior  of  his  material — 
wood,  iron,  tin,  or  stone — and  this  understanding  of  the  be- 
havior of  memory,  muscle,  the  senses,  and  thought,  constitutes 
the  real  and  only  direct  training  possible  in  any  of  these  fields 
of  work.  In  its  applicability,  this  training  is  universal,  for 
memory  behaves  in  substantially  the  same  way  whether  deal- 
ing with  nonsense-syllables  or  philosophical  prose:  the  laws 
of  muscle-action  are  essentially  the  same  whether  the  work 
be  driving  nails  or  setting  a  bone.  Very  few  of  us  are  pene- 
trating enough  in  our  analysis  of  these  laws,  or  judicious 
enough  in  their  application,  to  secure  this  universal  transfer: 
we  only  accomplish  a  very  limited  transfer,  because  the 
strangeness  of  the  subject-matter,  when  we  get  too  remote 
from  the  material  with  which  we  had  our  original  experience, 
baffles  our  attempt  to  discover  the  community  of  underlying 
principles  between  the  two.  It  is  easier  to  work  up  our  ex- 
perience clear  from  the  beginning,  again.  But  the  possibility 
of  universal  transfer  is  always  with  us :  how  extensive  a 
transfer  any  one  can  achieve  from  a  given  bit  of  experience 
depends  on  the  amount  of  intelligence  which  he  devotes  to  the 
task. 


364  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

In  accomplishing  this  transfer  of  training,  if  one  can  use 
habits  already  formed,  as  components  in  the  forming  of  new 
habits,  he  saves  just  so  much  in  the  process :  thus  we  have 
an  indirect  transfer-value  of  existing  habits.  Where  one  has 
a  countless  number  of  habits  already  formed,  as  in  the  use 
of  the  hand  and  arm,  or  a  countless  number  of  memorial  im- 
pressions established,  as  we  all  have  in  our  mass  of  knowledge, 
this  transfer-value  is  of  tremendous  importance  for  the  for- 
mation of  a  new  habit,  or  the  establishment  of  a  new  memorial 
impression:  where  the  transfer  is  only  from  one  small  habit 
or  memory  to  another,  the  transfer-value  is  relatively  insignifi- 
cant. But  in  any  case,  the  use  of  intelligence  is  necessary  to 
realize  the  transfer-value:  habits  can  rarely  be  taken  over 
bodily  and  unchanged.  They  must  be  adapted,  and  in  adapt- 
ing'them,  one  must  be  able  to  distinguish  essential  from  ap- 
parent similarity  and  difference  in  the  two  situations.  A 
wrong  diagnosis  results  in  misadaptation  to  the  new  case: 
habits  and  parts  of  habits  transfer  that  should  not,  and  those 
that  should  transfer  fail  to  do  so. 

All  but  one  of  the  tests  for  transfer  that  have  come  to  my 
notice,  have  made  one  serious  error  in  method:  that  one  is 
the  experiment  by  Judd  and  Scholkow,  mentioned  above 
(p-  357)-  I^  actual  life,  the  thing  of  value  is  not  the  gain  in 
efficiency  found  at  the  very  beginning  of  a  new  activity,  due  to 
training  in  something  else ;  but  the  gain  in  improvability.  Not 
how  much  unconscious,  automatic  transfer  has  already  been 
effected,  is  the  question  of  importance,  but  how  much  trans- 
fer can  one  effect  by  the  use  of  intelligence  and  deliberate 
effort,  given  time  to  adjust  himself  to  the  new  situation,  to 
seize  its  points  of  essential  similarity  to  the  old  situation, 
and  of  essential  difference.  Therefore,  instead  of  taking  the 
record  for  immediate  improvement  in  the  final  test  series,  as 
the  measure  of  transfer,  experimenters  should  after  the  train- 
ing series,  make  of  the  final  tests  a  new  training  series,  and 
compare  the  rate  of  improvement  for  the  trained  group  and 
the  control  group  in  the  final  test-training.  In  experiments 
involving  such  things  as  simple  reaction-times,  we  should  ex- 
pect very  little  difference,  for  they  give  little  scope  for  the 
use  of  intelligence:  in  tests  of  greater  complexity,  such  as, 
say,  transfer  from  typewriting  to  telegraphy,  we  should  ex- 
pect a  marked  difference.  The  more  intelligent  should  at  first 
greatly  outstrip  the  control  group,  then  settle  down  to  a  normal 
rate  of  improvement,  keeping  their  advantage,  but  making 
no  further  gain  over  the  control  group.  The  less  intelligent 
should  in  some  cases  lag  behind  the  control  group,  from  trans- 
ferring the  wrong  habits,  which  would  interfere  with  progress. 


The  doctrine  of  formal  discipline  365 

Learning  and  Transfer  in  General. 

The  results  found  in  these  experiments  are  of  only  sym- 
bolic value  for  education:  they  do  not  test  the  activities  that 
mean  most  for  life,  but  only  very  small  analogues  and  ele- 
ments of  the  activities  and  abilities  that  are  supposed  to  dis- 
tinguish a  leader  from  a  follower,  a  cultivated  man  from  an 
uncultivated,  a  master  from  a  tyro.  The  bigger  question  now 
confronts  us :  what  is  education :  can  one  acquire  improved 
power  for  meeting  novel  situations,  as  well  as  greater  famili- 
arity with  old  ones;  can  college  training  fit  for  business,  and 
if  so,  how;  have  different  subjects  their  peculiar  cultural 
value,  and  if  so,  in  what  does  it  consist?  The  remainder  of 
my  study  will  be  devoted  to  the  principles  on  which  rest  the 
answer  to  these  questions. 

Nearly,  if  not  quite,  every  fact  and  principle  that  has 
any  bearing  on  the  question  of  formal  discipline  has  already 
been  noticed  by  writers  on  the  psychology  of  learning.  The 
"  one  thing  needful "  is  that  these  facts  and  principles  should 
be  brought  together,  their  relations  to  each  other  made  clear 
where  they  have  been  overlooked,  and  the  whole  reduced  to 
coherence.  In  attempting  this  task,  I  shall  follow  very  largely 
Thorndike's  Psychology  of  Learning,  probably  the  soundest 
and  certainly  the  completest  work  that  we  have  on  the  subject. 
For  clearness  and  convenience  of  reference,  I  shall  preface 
my  discussion  with  a  brief  abstract  of  his  account  of  the 
mechanism  of  learning.  He  distinguishes  the  following  laws 
of  learning: 

L  Three  main  laws  of  learning. 

(a)  The  law  of  readiness:  When  any  conduction  unit  is 
in  readiness  to  conduct,  for  it  to  do  so  is  satisfying;  not 
to  do  so  is  annoying.  When  it  is  not  in  readiness  to  con- 
duct, for  it  to  do  so  is  annoying. 

(b)  The  law  of  exercise: 

( 1 )  The  law  of  use :  "  When  a  modifiable  connection  is 
made  between  a  situation  and  a  response,  that  connec- 
tion's strength  is,  other  things  being  equal,  increased." 
(26,  p.  3-)  . 

(2)  The  law  of  disuse:  When  a  modifiable  connection 
is  not  made  between  a  situation  and  a  response  during 
a  length  of  time,  that  connection's  strength  is  decreased." 
(26,  p.  4.) 

(c)  The  law  of  eifect:  "When  a  modifiable  connection  is 
between  a  situation  and  a  response  is  made  and  is  ac- 
companied or  followed  by  a  satisfying  state  of  affairs, 


366  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL   DISCIPLINE 

that  connection's  strength  is  increased:  when  made  and 
accompanied  or  followed  by  an  annoying  state  of  affairs, 
its  strength  is  decreased."     (26,  p.  4.) 

11.  Five  secondary  characteristics  of  learning. 

(a)  Multiple  response  to  the  same  external  situation.  This 
is  the  universal  method  of  meeting  a  new  situation:  we 
try  various  new  responses  until  we  find  one  that  satisfies. 
In  animal  learning,  the  responses  are  almost  purely  blind, 
random  movements;  in  man  they  may  be  guided,  stimu- 
lated, or  checked  in  various  ways,  but  the  principle  re- 
mains the  same.  It  is  only  though  this  principle  that  we 
can  break  away  from  our  plexus  of  habits,  meet  new 
situations,  and  form  new  habits. 

(b)  Attitudes  or  *'  sets."  These  determine  the  general  char- 
acter of  the  multiple  responses  aroused  by  the  new  situ- 
ation, and  what  response  will  be  selected  out  of  those 
appearing.  The  relation  between  the  set  in  a  given  situ- 
ation, and  the  laws  of  readiness  and  effect,  is  very 
intimate.  One's  set  determines  what  conduction  units 
shall  be  in  readiness  to  conduct ;  and  this  determines  what 
responses  will  satisfy  or  annoy. 

(c)  The  partial  or  piecemeal  activity  of  a  situation.  One 
or  other  part  of  a  situation  may  be  prepotent  in  effect: 
in  more  popular  language,  we  tend  to  analyze  situations, 
and  respond  to  those  parts  only  that  seem  important,  or 
convenient  to  take  first. 

(d)  Assimilation  of  response  by  analogy.  "  To  any  new 
situation  man  responds  as  he  would  to  some  situation 
like  it,  or  like  some  element  of  it."  (26,  p.  28.)  "  Were 
the  situation  so  utterly  new  as  to  be  in  no  respect  like 
anything  responded  to  before,  and  also  so  foreign  to 
man's  equipment  as  neither  to  arouse  an  original  tendency 
to  respond  nor  to  be  like  anything  that  could  do  so, 
response  by  analogy  would  fail.  For  all  response  would 
fail.  Man's  nature  would  be  forever  blind  and  deaf  to 
the  situation  in  question."  (26,  p.  29.)  To  what  t^xperi- 
ence  any  situation  shall  appear  similar,  depends  on  the 
man  and  his  previous  education.  Coal  dust  has  a  simi- 
larity to  diamonds  in  the  mind  of  a  chemist ;  to  an  unedu- 
cated man  it  would  be  similar  to  something  of  a  quite 
different  sort. 

(e)  Associative  shifting.  This  depends  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple as  response  by  analogy.  We  readily  learn  to  make 
the  same  response  to  part  of  a  situation  that  we  have 
done  to  the  whole:  and  we  may  come  to  lose  sight  of 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  367 

the  whole  in  our  response  to  the  part.  The  very  exist- 
ence of  language  is  a  result  of  this  principle ;  the  danger 
against  which  we  have  always  to  guard  of  mistaking  the 
word  for  the  thing,  is  the  result  of  a  tendency  to  make 
the  associative  shifting  too  complete. 

This  analysis  of  the  mechanism  of  learning  may  be  left 
without  comment,  since  the  points  on  which  it  might  be 
challenged  are  not  relevant  to  the  present  study:  but  certain 
other  points  in  Thorndike's  treatment  of  the  psychology  of 
learning,  which  have  a  bearing  on  the  question  of  formal 
discipline,  need  to  be  criticized  and  supplemented.  These 
are  his  discussions  of  (i)  habit,  (2)  thinking,  (3)  functions, 
(4)  attention.  On  all  four  of  these  subjects  Thorndike  is 
vague — purposely,  as  I  take  it,  from  unwillingness  to  intro- 
duce any  speculative  question  or  anything  of  doubtful  validity 
into  his  book — and  consequently  I  write  here  in  constant 
danger  of  misinterpreting  and  misrepresenting  him.  But 
psychological  thought  has  progressed  far  enough  to  make 
possible  something  like  a  definite  determination  of  what  these 
four  terms  should  mean. 

( I )  Habit.  "  To  one  accustomed  to  the  older  restricted 
view  of  habits,  as  a  set  of  hard  and  fast  bonds  each  between 
one  of  a  number  of  events  happening  to  a  man  and  some 
response  peculiar  to  that  event,  it  may  seem  especially  per- 
verse to  treat  the  connections  formed  with  new  experiences 
under  the  same  principle  as  is  used  to  explain  those  very 
often  repeated,  very  sure,  and  very  invariable  bonds,  which 
alone  he  prefers  to  call  habits."  (26,  p.  28.)  Not  exactly 
perverse,  we  might  reply,  but  rather  confusing.  The  diffi- 
culty seems  to  lie  in  this:  Thorndike  calls  the  laws  of 
learning  which  have  just  been  given,  "  laws  of  habit,"  and 
then  apparently  assumes  that  every  process  which  obeys 
those  laws  is  a  habit.  But  they  are  laws  of  habit  only 
in  the  sense  that  they  are  the  mechanism  by  which  habits 
are  formed:  every  process  which  obeys  those  laws  has  in  it 
the  makings  of  a  habit,  but  has  not  yet  become  one.  Once  let 
the  process  became  a  habit,  and  several  of  these  laws  fall  into 
abeyance.  Multiple  response,  for  example,  is  supplemented 
by  the  uniform,  unvarying,  and  even  undiscriminating  re- 
sponse of  the  fixed  habit;  associative  shifting  can  only  be 
accomplished  at  the  expense  of  the  habit;  and  the  principle 
of  assimilation  is  only  a  source  of  embarrassment,  unless  one 
is  able  to  adapt — that  is,  partially  break  up,  and  re-form — 
the  habit  thus  transferred.  What,  then,  is  a  habit?  A  habit 
is  a  tendency  to  repeat  an  action  which  has  often  been  per- 
formed before.     So  far  as  the  action  has  become  habitual, 


368  THE  dcx:trine  of  formal  discipline 

it  will  be  repeated  unchanged.  Habits  and  memory  are  essen- 
tially one,  arising  from  the  universal  tendency  of  the  neurones 
to  retain  impressions.  Habit  and  memory  are  static:  a  habit 
cannot  form  itself,  nor  can  it  form  another  habit.  The  power 
that  forms  it  must  come  from  outside  itself.  That  power  is 
the  whole  personality,  feelings,  impulses,  thought :  most  active 
of  these  is  thought. 

(2)  Thought.  As  habit  is  a  fixed  mode  of  response  to  an 
old  situation,  so  thinking  is  a  flexible,  tentative  response  to 
a  new  situation,  having  as  its  purpose  the  discovery  and 
selection  of  the  best  response.  Having  found  this  response, 
the  organism  generally  turns  it  into  a  habit,  and  leaves 
thought  free  to  attack  another  problem.  Thought  is,  in  terms 
of  Thorndike's  analysis  of  learning,  the  action  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  multiple  response,  under  the  guidance  of  a  *  set :'  it 
is  constantly  trying  to  put  things  together  in  a  new  way,  look- 
ing for  new  relations,  and  in  this  effort,  makes  use  of  its 
previous  acquisitions,  habits,  memories,  established  associa- 
tions, as  material.  No  doubt  thinking  is  much  more  than 
this,  but  it  is  at  least  this,  and  we  must  carefully  distinguish 
between  thought,  which  is  active,  tentative,  flexible,  directed 
toward  the  new,  and  habit,  which  is  unprogressive,  stereo- 
typed, a  mere  deposit  of  the  past — though  none  the  less  im- 
portant for  that.  Thought  may  abdicate  to  habit,  and  in 
great  measure  does  in  most  adults — perhaps  completely  in 
some — ^but  thought  is  not  habit,  though  it  is  such  stuff  as 
habits  are  made  of.  There  are  no  habits  of  thought,  strictly 
speaking:  what  are  so-called  are  habits  that  condition  thought 
by  barring  its  progress  in  some  directions,  and  consequently 
directing  it  another  way;  and  also  habits  which  constitute 
the  material  with  which  thought  works. 

(3)  Functions.  "Let  us  use  the  term  *  Mental  Function' 
for  any  group  of  connections,  or  for  any  feature  of  any  group 
of  connections,  or  indeed  for  any  segment  or  feature  of 
behavior,  which  any  competent  student  has  chosen  or  may 
in  the  future  choose  to  study,  as  a  part  of  the  total  which 
we  call  a  man's  intellect,  character,  skill,  and  temperament. 
By  so  catholic  a  definition  we  shall  have  a  convenient  term 
to  mean  any  learnable  thing  in  man,  the  psychology  of  whose 
learning  anybody  has  investigated."  (26,  p.  57.)  Such  a  prag- 
matic use  of  the  term  is  of  course  perfectly  legitimate,  but  we 
shall  want  to  know  more  definitely  whether  a  function  as 
such  has  an  organic  unity,  a  nucleus  in  some  innate  char- 
acter and  a  capacity  for  independent  growth,  or  whether  it 
is  a  mere  '  segment  of  behavior '  chosen  more  or  less  arbi- 
trarily, for  convenience  of  study.     In  the  former  case  wc 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  369 

have  a  great  group  of  little  faculties  in  the  mind:  in  the 
latter  case  the  mind  would  be  from  one  point  of  view  an 
aggregate  of  atoms;  from  another  point  of  view,  a  unit. 
If  functions  are  faculties,  we  should  expect  much  transfer 
in  a  small  field,  but  no  transfer  to  other  functions:  if  they 
are  not,  then  possibility  of  transfer  should  be  as  wide  as  the 
mind  itself,  and  the  immediate  spread  of  training  should  be 
practically  nil.  Thorndike  seems  to  lean  to  the  latter  view, 
but  occasional  remarks  by  him  and  others  of  his  school  sug- 
gest a  tendency  to  regard  functions  as  faculties.  For  example, 
Ruger  asks :  ''  Is  there  a  single  function  for  *  transforma- 
tions in  three  dimensions,'  or  are  there  numerous  special 
functions?  "  (23,  p.  26.)  Thorndike  and  Woodworth  say  {2yf 
p.  248)  **  the  function  attention,  for  instance,  is  really  a  vast 
group  of  functions  " :  from  which  but  one  inference  is  pos- 
sible, that  there  are  as  many  "  attentions  "  as  there  are  other 
functions,  and  that  each  ''  attention  "  is  attached  exclusively 
to  one  of  these  functions,  since  no  function  can  act  without 
attention.  This  leaves  us  in  doubt  as  to  Thorndike's  posi- 
tion. But  considered  on  its  merits,  the  second  view  proposed, 
denying  to  "  functions  "  any  independent,  innate  origin,  seems 
the  preferable.  On  this  hypothesis,  a  function  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  group  of  habits  and  a  body  of  knowledge  which 
have  a  certain  unity  from  serving  the  accomplishment  of 
one  general  purpose.  It  centers,  not  round  an  internal,  psychic 
nucleus  of  some  small  special  ability,  but  round  the  external 
nucleus  of  an  end  to  be  attained.  It  may,  however,  acquire 
a  unity  and  an  independent  existence  much  resembling  that 
once  attributed  to  a  "  faculty,"  through  becoming  formed 
into  a  constellation  or  complex.  Thus  "  mathematical  ability," 
if  the  study  is  pursued  for  a  long  time  and  without  care  to 
relate  it  to  the  rest  of  life,  may  be  organized  into  a  separate 
complex,  dissociated  from  everything  else — it  becomes  a 
"  water-tight  compartment." 

One  important  conclusion  partly  follows  from,  partly  sup- 
ports, this  hypothesis.  It  is  this:  within  the  field  of  pure 
intellect,  there  are  no  special  abilities.  So  far  as  power  of 
thought  is  concerned,  any  individual  is  equally  well  equipped 
for  mathematics,  philosophy,  or  fiction-writing:  the  Anlagen 
which  determine  anyone's  special  abilities  and  interests  are 
all  extra-intellectual — emotional  characteristics,  memory-type, 
motor  control,  and  environment  are  among  the  most  powerful 
determining  factors.  This  conclusion  rests  mainly  on  physio- 
logical and  genetic  grounds.  Physiologically,  uniformity  of 
intellectual  power  within  the  individual  is  to  be  assumed  for 
the  same  reason  that  we  assumed  uniformity  of  memorial 


370  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

ability.  As  memory  has  for  its  basis  the  power  of  the  neurones 
to  resist  impressions,  so  thought  has  for  its  basis  the  con- 
ductivity of  the  nerve-fibers  in  the  brain.  The  better  one's 
nerve-fibers  conduct,  the  more  fertile  will  his  mind  be  in 
new  combinations — or  ideas — and  the  more  often  will  he  be 
able  to  hit  on  a  good  idea.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  this  conductivity  varies  in  different  parts  of  the  brain, 
while  the  fact  that  in  thought  we  can  summon  what  little 
we  do  know  in  uncongenial  fields,  and  use  it  as  readily  on 
occasion  as  we  can  use  knowledge  from  our  favorite  fields, 
indicates  that  the  brain  is  an  equally  efficient  conductor  in 
all  its  parts.  Genetically,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  specializa- 
tions in  the  field  of  thought  should  occur.  We  can  easily 
understand  sight-centers,  auditory  centers,  speech-centers, 
hand-and-arm  centers;  but  how  explain  mathematics-centers 
and  philosophy-centers :  or,  taking  smaller  *'  functions,"  cen- 
ters for  puzzle-solving,  and  centers  for  judging  rectangles 
of  approximately  a  given  area?  The  facts  of  learning  are 
much  more  easily  explained  without  supposing  such  "  centers." 
This  explains  in  a  new  way  the  correlations  which  Hart  and 
Spearman  have  pointed  out,  and  for  which  they  have  postu- 
lated a  "  general  factor."  Granted  that  different  parts  of  the 
brain  are  equally  efficient  in  the  quality  on  which  intelligence 
depends,  they  will  be  correlations  without  the  help  of  an 
ubiquitous  "  general  factor." 

(4)  Is  attention  one  function,  or  a  group  of  functions  If 
our  contention  concerning  other  functions  is  granted,  then 
attention  must  be  one  function,  for  it  is  the  prerequisite  of 
every  activity,  and  if  it  does  not  attach,  in  separate  fragments, 
to  separate  innate  faculty-like  functions,  it  must  attach  instead 
to  mental  activity  in  general :  that  is,  it  must  function  as  one. 
Two  other  considerations  support  this  view,  even  if  we  sup- 
posed the  innate  origin  which  we  have  just  denied,  of  separate 
"  mental  functions."  (a)  Attention  can  be  concentrated.  If 
there  were  a  great  variety  of  separate  "  attentions,"  the  amount 
of  attention  available  for  any  one  function  would  be  strictly 
limited,  and  show  very  little  variation,  (b)  Supposing  atten- 
tion not  to  be  one,  the  "  attentions  "  belonging  to  two  unrelated 
functions  could  work  simultaneously  without  interference  in 
consciousness :  the  more  remote  from  each  other  the  two 
functions  were,  the  less  would  they  interfere.  Instead  of 
that,  we  find  that  we  can  attend  at  one  instant  only  to  so 
much  material  and  of  such  a  sort  that  it  can  be  contemplated 
as  a  unit:  the  more  unrelated  an  idea  that  tries  to  crowd  in, 
the  more  distracting  its  influence. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  371 

The  Things  That  Transfer 

I.  Knowledge  and  Ideas.  The  distinction  in  meaning  be- 
tween "  knowledge  "  and  "  ideas  "  may  be  caught  by  comparing 
the  phrases  "  a  learned  man  "  and  "  a  man  of  ideas."  Taking 
the  suggestion  from  these  phrases,  we  may  define  knowledge 
as  what  one  learns  from  others ;  and  ideas  as  what  he  works 
out  for  himself.  By  this  definition,  what  were  ideas  to  Plato 
or  Kant,  become  merely  knowledge  to  me,  unless  I  reconvert 
them  into  ideas  by  working  them  out  for  myself.  The  dis- 
tinction is  vital,  for  what  we  retain  as  knowledge  is  never 
more  than  what  appears  on  the  surface — we  can  reproduce  it 
all — while  what  we  possess  as  ideas  have  behind  them  the 
richness  of  the  thought  which  went  into  them — the  least  part 
of  an  idea  appears  on  the  surface.  Consequently,  while  a 
bit  of  knowledge  and  an  idea  may  look  exactly  alike,  they 
are  vastly  different.  To  Kant,  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason 
represented  the  fruit  of  years  of  thought:  a  sentence  of  it 
might  stand  for  whole  volumes.  To  us,  if  we  only  read  it 
to  find  out  what  he  said,  it  will  be  little  more  than,  in  Ham- 
let's phrase,  "words,  words,  words."  We  can  only  win 
from  it  something  of  the  significance  it  had  for  Kant,  by 
getting  into  sympathy  with  his  point  of  view,  putting  our- 
selves into  his  place,  trying  to  understand  why  he  held  this 
or  that  position,  and  thinking  his  thoughts  over  after  him. 
This  is  the  creative  reading  which  Emerson  urges  upon  us. 
It  by  no  means  involves  even  temporary  assent  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  author  whom  we  happen  to  be  reading,  but  it 
does  involve  recognizing  that  he  was  human  '  of  like  thoughts 
with  ourselves,'  and  reading  his  work  sympathetically,  as  the 
honest  effort  of  a  human  mind  to  express  the  thoughts  that 
came  to  it. 

Both  knowledge  and  ideas  are  capable  of  transfer:  but 
knowledge  can  never  transfer  of  itself.  It  must  first  be 
worked  up  into  ideas — that  is,  adapted,  re-formed  and  re- 
organized,  for  the  purpose  at  hand.  We  see  this  impotence 
of  mere  knowledge,  everywhere:  we  all  know  boys  whose 
knowledge  of  physics  coexists  with  methods  in  their  every- 
day mechanics  that  go  back  to  the  cave-men;  girls  to  whom 
chemistry  and  cooking  have  no  relation.  I  know  one  excel- 
lent teacher  of  geometry  who  on  attempting  a  little  amateur 
carpentry  never  thought  of  using  the  principle  of  the  right 
triangle  to  get  the  length  of  his  rafters  and  the  proper  bevel 
of  their  ends ;  but  set  two  timbers  up  on  the  sills  at  what 
seemed  an  acceptable  pitch,  got  someone  to  help  hold  them, 
and   marked   with    a   pencil    where   they   crossed.      A    little 


372  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

thought  might  have  suggested  from  his  knowledge  of  geom- 
etry the  principle  which  trained  mechanics,  though  themselves 
ignorant  of  geometry,  have  been  taught  to  use:  but  human 
nature  seems  prone  to  make  the  hands  save  the  head,  instead 
of  making  the  head  save  the  hands.  Anything  to  get  out  of 
thinking. 

This  points  to  the  true  nature  of  the  gap  between  theory 
and  practice,  and  how  it  is  to  be  bridged.  Theory  is  a  state- 
ment of  the  relations  between  one  bit  of  experience  and  an- 
other: and  as  soon  as  it  loses  touch  with  the  experience  out 
of  which  it  grew,  it  becomes  meaningless.  The  **  mere 
theorist "  is  not  even  a  theorist :  he  is  only  a  depository  of 
theories  worked  out  by  others,  which  to  him  are  merely 
knowledge.  But  he  has  this  advantage  over  the  "  practical 
man  "  who  knows  no  theory :  let  him  once  wake  up  to  the 
fact  that  his  knowledge  has  meaning  when  brought  into 
contact  with  life,  and  he  has  the  store  of  knowledge  already 
to  be  worked  over  into  ideas — into  power.  This  is  a  partial 
justification  of  the  school,  for  giving  so  much  of  its  time 
to  teach  theories  which  can  find  little  or  no  contact  with 
the  pupil's  present  experience.  The  pupil  is  not  necessarily 
the  worse  off  for  possessing  knowledge  which  does  not  relate 
to  his  present  experience:  while  he  is  far  better  equipped 
for  the  future  time  when  his  knowledge  will  become  sig- 
nificant, and  if  he  is  alert,  the  very  possession  of  knowledge 
which  he  cannot  relate  up  to  life,  will  of  itself  challenge 
and  enrich  the  assimilation  of  his  school-learning  to  experi- 
ence. But  this  consideration  in  no  way  justifies  the  school 
in  accentuating  the  break  between  theory  and  life.  We  may 
frankly  recognize  that  much  of  the  subject-matter  of  our 
school  studies — even  history  and  geography — will  not  reach 
its  highest  significance  to  the  pupil  until  years  afterward,  and 
that  we  need  not  worry  over  the  fact:  but  we  must  make 
so  much  of  it  as  we  can  relate  to  his  life,  or,  if  he  is  an 
average  boy,  the  idea  will  never  dawn  on  him  that  school- 
learning  can  be  applied  to  every-day  problems.  Learning 
remains  to  him  a  thing  apart. 

II.  Attitudes  and  Ideals.  The  Aufgabe  and  the  Ein- 
stellung,  the  controlling  factors  in  all  thought,  are  for  that 
very  reason,  controlling  factors  in  all  transfer.  In  studies 
of  learning,  it  is  usual  to  bracket  the  two  as  parts  of  one 
process,  and  then  focus  attention  mainly  on  the  Einstellung — 
quite  naturally,  because  only  through  the  Einstellung  does 
the  Aufgabe  get  results.  But  in  a  study  of  transfer,  the  dis- 
tinction between  the  Aufgabe  or  goal-idea,  and  the  Ein- 
stellung or  "  set,"  must  be  kept  clear. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  373 

(a)  The  "  set."  The  set  is  the  bondservant  of  the  goal- 
idea,  the  adjustment  which  the  organism  makes  in  obedience 
to  that  idea.  Any  such  adjustment  is  to  be  counted  efficient 
only  in  proportion  as  it  gets  the  results  called  for  by  the 
goal-idea.  But  any  given  "  set,"  if  often  enough  assumed,  can 
become  habitual,  and  so  lose  its  intimate  dependence  on  the 
goal-idea.  Then  we  have  something  that  looks  very  much 
like  a  formal  habit.  As  in  the  humbler  realm  of  activity, 
conscious,  deliberate  reaction  to  a  new  stimulus  turns  into 
habitual,  automatic  reaction  to  the  stimulus  after  it  has  been 
often  repeated:  so  in  the  realm  of  purposes  and  adjustments 
to  them,  the  purpose  at  first  determines  the  adjustment,  but 
at  last,  if  we  often  meet  the  same  situation  with  the  same 
purpose,  the  adjustment  becomes  automatic,  and  may  even 
conflict  with  the  purpose,  while  it  will  certainly  persist  with- 
out the  help  of  the  purpose.  A  page  from  my  own  experi- 
ence, which  many  another  language-student  in  our  country 
can  match,  will  serve  to  illustrate.  In  college,  I  studied  my 
texts  in  foreign  languages  primarily  for  the  purpose  of  being 
ready  for  translation  in  class.  As  I  gained  some  familiarity 
with  the  languages  studied,  I  acquired  the  habit  of  reading 
merely  to  make  sure  that  I  could  translate  when  called  upon, 
only  passages  or  words  that  required  working  out  or  looking 
up,  attracted  my  attention.  Passages  that  contained  no  diffi- 
culties were  passed  by  with  a  sort  of  subconscious  comment, 
"yes,  I  can  do  that;"  and  without  thought  of  the  subject- 
matter.  The  result  is  that  since  my  college  days,  now  that 
I  read  for  subject-matter,  I  find  it  almost  impossible  to  get 
any  connected  idea  of  the  content  of  a  book  in  a  foreign 
language  until  the  second  reading,  and  often  the  easier  the 
text,  the  less  I  get.  I  acquired  in  college  what  Thorndike 
calls  a  "  habit  of  neglect  " — learning  to  neglect  the  subject- 
matter,  because  class-work  made  no  call  for  it — and  the  habit 
has  stubbornly  persisted  in  spite  of  constant  effort  to  break 
it  up. 

These  crystallized  sets,  which  have  declared  their  inde- 
pendence of  the  parent  goal-ideas,  are  the  most  important 
of  the  so-called  "  habits  of  thought."  A  set,  whether  become 
habitual  or  not,  forms  during  the  period  of  its  dominance, 
the  channel  within  which  thought  must  flow :  become  habitual, 
it  acts  as  a  unvarying  controller  of  thought  in  the  presence 
of  situations  which  call  up  the  given  set.  A  single  set,  or 
a  small  group  of  them,  may  after  a  period  of  long  habitua- 
tion, so  dominate  the  mind  that  thought  dares  not  and  cannot 
leap  their  bounds.  Thus  the  mathematician,  the  historian, 
the  financier,  the  specialist  in  any  line,  may  so  firmly  acquire 


374  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

a  set  appropriate  to  his  own  line,  and  be  so  innocent  of  any 
other  forms  of  thought,  that  he  transfers  this  one  lone  set 
of  his  to  everything  that  he  does.  More  precisely,  this 
habitual  set  often  makes  the  man  unable  to  see  facts  and 
values  that  lie  outside  the  sphere  of  his  particular  work. 
There  are  lawyers  in  whose  minds  the  statute  law  usurps 
the  place  of  the  moral  code:  and  another  case  in  point  is  the 
business  man  who  thought  that  he  had  struck  a  death-blow 
to  literary  culture  by  arguing  that  knowledge  of  Shakespeare 
had  never  helped  anyone  to  win  a  speculation  on  the  stock 
exchange. 

The  set  transfers  more  readily  than  other  kinds  of  habit, 
because  it  is  attached  rather  to  the  general  outline  of  a  situa- 
tion than  to  its  full  concrete  reality:  thus  a  far  wider  variety 
of  situations  occur  that  are,  so  far  as  concerns  the  elements 
evoking  the  given  set,  identical.  For  example,  one  who 
acquires  the  habit  of  contradicting  people,  needs  only  to  en- 
counter a  statement  of  fact  or  opinion  in  conversation,  and 
his  habitual  set  is  at  once  called  up.  The  statements  to 
which  he  reacts  at  various  times  may  be  as  unlike  as  day 
and  night,  yet  they  are  identical  in  form,  both  being  asser- 
tions. Let  the  medium  of  conversation  be  questions,  con- 
cealing the  speaker's  opinions,  and  the  habitual  set  of  the 
contentious  person  is  helpless  to  act.  The  reaction  was  to  the 
form  of  the  remarks,  and  changing  the  form,  we  evade  the 
reaction. 

(b)  The  goal-idea.  From  its  very  nature,  the  goal-idea 
cannot  become  habitual.  It  is  essentially  an  act  of  will,  and 
though  we  may  habitually  do  a  thing,  we  cannot  habitually 
will  a  thing.  Just  so  far  as  habit  enters  in,  volition  drops 
out :  it  is  no  longer  needed.  So  when  a  set  becomes  habitual, 
the  goal-idea  to  which  it  belonged  fades  out,  and  is  very 
often  lost  sight  of.  This  is  a  valuable  labor-saving  device, 
because  it  saves  us  from  the  necessity  of  thinking  out  our 
purposes  anew  :\vhenever  we  meet  a  situation :  but  it  is  also 
dangerous,  if  not  carefully  used.  In  any  occupation  which 
involves  much  routine — and  most  do — one  is  in  great  danger 
of  making  a  fetish  of  things  which  were  originally  done  for 
a  purpose,  but  have  become  so  fixed  from  constant  repetition 
that  they  are  at  last  done  automatically,  worshipped  as  ends 
in  themselves,  and  may  even  serve  to  defeat  the  purpose  which 
they  should  have  served,  but  which,  now  lost  sight  of,  can 
gain  no  respect.  School  discipline,  hospital  rules,  legal  pro- 
cedure, contain  endless  illustrations  of  this  irrational  worship 
of  form  due  to  divorcing  the  set  from  the  goal-idea. 

Sets  may  be  taught ;  goal-ideas  can  only  be  evoked,  brought 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  375 

to  consciousness.  What  one  wants  is  an  expression  of  what 
he  is;  but  one  may  not  be  at  all  clear  as  to  his  own  nature, 
nor  as  to  his  own  wishes.  The  great  business  of  education 
is  to  help  him  find  himself,  to  help  him  to  understand  what 
he  is,  and  what  are  the  best  means  of  realizing  fully  the  pos- 
sibilities of  his  own  nature.  One  may  very  easily  choose  the 
wrong  intermediate  goal-ideas,  and  so  defeat  the  end  which 
he  wishes  to  serve.  Education,  in  preparing  him  against 
this,  does  in  a  very  important  sense  teach  him  goal-ideas,  but 
only,  as  said  before,  in  the  sense  that  it  evokes  them  from  his 
own  nature.  But  school  education  very  largely  fails  in  prac- 
tice to  do  this,  because  it  has  very  little  thought  of  the  indi- 
vidual, and  still  less  of  such  intangible  things  as  purposes 
and  ideals.  Routine  and  facts  are  its  mainstay.  It  can  and 
does,  however,  through  the  knowledge  which  it  gives,  furnish 
a  broader  basis  from  which  those  who  have  come  under  its 
influence  can  work  out  for  themselves  more  surely  what 
their  aims  are  and  should  be;  and  we  must  recognize  that 
too  much  guidance  here  is  as  bad  as  too  little.  Every  one 
must  **  work  out  his  own  salvation,"  or  he  will  be  the  weaker 
for  not  having  done  so. 

Ideals  are  the  chief  priests  in  the  hierarchy  of  goal-ideas. 
What  his  supreme  ideals  are  no  one  can  say,  for  they  have 
their  roots  too  deep  in  the  nature  of  his  being.  One  who 
could  define  his  ideals  could  give  a  complete  analysis  of  his 
own  nature  and  character:  and  the  unfailing  curiosity  of 
everyone  about  his  own  powers  and  his  own  traits  of  char- 
acter, his  interest  in  what  others  have  to  say  about  him,  is 
an  index  of  the  uncertainty  with  which  he  gauges  himself. 
But  if  we  can  never  attain  a  final  statement  of  our  ideals, 
and  may  even  in  trying  to  do  so  state  the  very  opposite  of 
the  truth,  yet  we  can  sense  them  dimly,  and  feel  them  with 
enough  certainty  to  work  toward  them.  Education  of  the 
right  sort  can  enable  us  to  become  more  clearly  aware  of 
these  ideals  which  we  dimly  sense:  education  of  the  wrong 
sort  can  blind  us  to  them  completely.  But  in  any  case,  every- 
thing that  we  do  is  at  bottom  directed  toward  the  realization 
of  these  ideals;  or  was  in  the  beginnings,  before  it  became, 
as  a  habit,  independent  of  all  aims  and  ideals,  because  inde- 
pendent even  of  the  will. 

Goal-ideas  and  sets  alike  can  transfer,  but  the  involuntary 
transfer  of  a  habitual  set  is  always  in  response  to  a  formal, 
superficial  identity  between  situations,  which  may  coexist  with 
a  very  essential  difference  in  other  respects,  which  makes 
the  transfer  mischievous.  The  transfer  of  a  goal-idea  is 
necessarily  voluntary,  through  discovery  of  analogies  between 


376  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

situations.  It  may  be  often  mistaken,  but  the  more  clearly 
one  understands  his  own  aims  and  ideals,  the  more  perfectly 
adapted  will  his  transferences  be.  If  he  learns  to  think  clearly, 
and  gains  an  understanding  of  his  own  purposes  in  life,  he 
is  equipped  to  meet  any  situation,  not  necessarily  in  the  best 
possible  way,  but  in  a  better  way  than  he  otherwise  would; 
because  he  is  able  to  bring  his  past  experience,  thought,  and 
decisions,  to  bear  on  it. 

III.  Reasoning.  Reasoning  always  involves — and  is — deal- 
ing with  some  kind  of  subject-matter,  and  consequently  re- 
quires familiarity  with  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter  dealt 
with,  and  adaptation  to  it.  The  kind  of  reasoning  that  suc- 
ceeds in  mathematics,  will  fail  in  historical  study.  It  also 
requires  a  considerable  stock  of  knowledge  in  the  given  field, 
for  reasoning  is  very  much  like  the  process  of  digestion — it 
cannot  go  on  without  something  to  digest.  But  beneath  the 
difference  in  reasoning  processes  consequent  on  difference 
in  subject-matter,  and  beneath  the  conditioning  fact  that  we 
cannot  reason  without  knowledge  to  base  our  reasoning  on, 
there  is  an  essential  similarity  between  reasoning  processes 
even  in  the  most  unrelated  fields.  Any  extensive  discussion 
of  the  nature  of  reasoning  would  be  out  of  place  here,  but 
we  must  notice  what  is  the  effect  of  practice  in  reasoning, 
and  when  and  how  it  may  transfer.  Practice  may  have  its 
effect  in  three  ways:  (i)  it  develops  the  so-called  "  habits  of 
thought " — habitual  sets,  and  perhaps  "  habits  of  neglect  of 
fatigue  and  discomfort " — and  thus  relieves  the  strain  on  the 
voluntary  attention,  setting  it  free  to  focus  more  directly,  on 
the  thinking  process  itself.  (2)  It  may  improve  one's 
familiarity  with  his  subject-matter.  This  is  of  the  very  first 
importance.  As  one  can  only  learn  by  experience  to  recog- 
nize objects  under  the  microscope  from  the  pictures  of  them 
in  Dooks,  so  it  is  only  intimate  acquaintance  with  whatever 
the  mind  has  to  consider,  that  enables  it  to  grasp  the  signifi- 
cant points,  and  distinguish  and  ignore  the  insignificant.  (3) 
Practice  may  bring  one  to  an  understanding  of  ''  how  it 
is  done."  This  is  not  a  matter  of  habituation,  but  of  grasp- 
ing the  idea  that  the  procedure  employed  makes  a  difference 
in  the  results.  A  man  of  sufficient  genius  might  learn,  from 
a  single  act  of  reasoning,  enough  to  build  up  a  whole  system 
of  logic — but  no  one  has  ever  done  it,  of  course.  We  can, 
however,  supplement  what  we  learn  from  first-hand  experi- 
ence, with  what  others  have  learned:  and  our  books  on  logic, 
our  scientific  induction,  our  mathematical  deduction,  enable 
us  to  profit  by  the  experience  worked  out  by  scores  of  great 
men,  living  generations  apart.    Practice,  then,  is  supplemented 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  377 

by  what  we  inherit  from  the  experience  of  others,  to  an  extent 
which  we  wholly  fail  to  realize,  in  giving  us  an  understanding 
of  method  in  thought.  But  it  must  be  clearly  recognized  that 
books  and  instruction  can  only  supplement  and  guide  experi- 
ence.  We  learn  from  them  of  devices  which  would  not  have 
occurred  to  us,  and  we  learn  to  look  where  without  guidance 
we  might  not  have  thought  of  looking,  for  significant  prin- 
ciples in  our  own  procedure:  but  a  device  which  we  cannot 
use,  a  principle  which  we  do  not  recognize  in  our  own  experi- 
ence, is  meaningless  to  us.  We  do  not  learn  to  reason  by 
studying  logic,  though  it  may  help  us  to  understand  some 
facts  about  our  reasoning. 

Now  the  question  is :  How  far  can  practice  in  reasoning 
transfer?  Taking  in  order  the  three  main  effects  of  practice 
just  noticed :  (2)  The  "  habits  of  thought  "  may  transfer  invol- 
untarily, wherever  situations  occur  that  are  formally  enough 
like  those  on  which  they  were  formed,  to  call  them  into  action ; 
or  they  may  be  voluntarily  transferred  and  adapted,  because 
found  useful.  Thus  one  who  has  trained  himself  to  think 
in  mathematics,  in  philosophy,  and  in  biology,  deliberately 
transferring  his  acquired  habits,  has  in  consequence  developed 
habits  flexible  enough — or  rather,  perhaps,  generic  enough — 
to  apply  with  a  great  saving  of  effort  to  any  new  field.  But 
if  the  thinking  in  all  three  lines  is  conducted  with  no  thought 
of  relating  the  processes,  we  have  "  water-tight  compartments  " 
again.  If,  taking  the  third  alternative,  one  tries  to  transfer 
his  habits  unchanged,  he  fails  in  yet  another  way.  Pascal  puts 
very  clearly  how  this  works  in  his  own  favorite  subject: 
"  Geometers  never  see  what  is  before  their  eyes.  They  are 
brought  up  among  the  principles  of  science,  clear  and  tangible 
every  one ;  and  all  the  arguments  they  employ  have  been  care- 
fully tested  beforehand.  Hence  they  are  puzzled  when  they 
have  to  deal  with  evidence  of  a  different  kind.  Here  the 
points  are  alrnost  imperceptible;  they  are  not  so  much  seen 
as  felt;  a  man  will  hardly  be  got  to  notice  them  at  all,  if  he 
does  not  do  so  naturally.  They  are  so  numerous  and  delicate 
that  the  very  nicest  judgment  is  needed  to  seize  them  and 
draw  the  right  conclusions :  for  they  cannot  be  set  down  in 
order,  like  the  propositions  of  mathematics.  The  mind  must 
take  them  in  at  a  glance,  rather  than  by  any  conscious  process ; 
geometers  only  make  themselves  ridiculous  when  they  insist 
on  applying  their  axioms  and  definitions  to  matters  incapable 
of  such  handling.  Not  but  what  the  mind  does  reason  about 
them  after  a  silent,  instinctive  fashion  of  its  own,  beyond  the 
power  of  most  to  grasp,  and  of  any  to  explain." 

(2)  Familiarity  with  subject-matter  is  of  course  useful  only 


378  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

so  far  as  the  subject-matter  itself  enters  into  the  work  of 
other  fields.  But  we  very  readily  overlook  even  the  extent 
to  which  the  subject-matter  applies:  the  self-same  fact  looks 
very  different  in  school  from  the  way  it  looks  in  a  business 
office;  and  very  different  at  church  on  Sunday  than  at  work 
on  Monday — and  we  do  not  recognize  its  identity  when  it 
puts  on  a  different  dress.  Consequently  we  lose  valuable 
transfer-possibilities,  learning  useful  facts  only  to  forget  them 
again,  because  we  did  not  learn  them  well  enough  to  recognize 
them  in  a  different  setting. 

(3)  Far  the  greater  part  of  transfer-possibilities  in  reason- 
ing, come  under  the  heading  of  experience  in  methods.  Even 
transfer  of  habits,  and  of  the  use  of  subject-matter,  must  be 
presided  over  by  this  understanding  of  the  basic  principles 
of  thought,  to  get  the  best  results.  By  this  understanding 
of  the  basic  principles  of  thought,  I  do  not  mean  the  kind  of 
conscious  evaluation  that  could  be  worked  up  into  a  book 
on  logic;  but  rather  the  instinctive  grasp — analogous  in  a 
way  to  vigor  of  conscience  in  morals — on  which  the  conscious 
evaluation  of  principles  must  rest,  and  which  can  exist  with- 
out that  conscious  evaluation.  No  course  of  study  can  infal- 
libly evoke  this  instinctive  grasp:  any  subject  may  do  it,  if 
the  subject  appeals  sufficiently  to  the  student.  Dewey  had 
this  partly  in  mind  when  he  said :  "  Any  subject  ...  is 
intellectual,  if  intellectual  at  all,  not  in  its  fixed  inner  struc- 
ture, but  in  its  function — in  its  power  to  start  and  direct  sig- 
nificant inquiry  and  reflection."  (7,  p.  39.)  At  the  same  time, 
some  subjects  are  far  more  effective  than  others  in  this  re- 
spect, owing  to  their  fixed  inner  structure,  if  they  can  be  made 
to  appeal:  because  they  can  afford  the  student  a  far  wider 
variety  of  "  significant  inquiry  and  reflection  "  in  a  more  con- 
centrated form. 

IV.  Moral  Judgments.  The  teaching  of  morals  is  the  most 
baffling  of  all  problems  in  education,  and  the  few  remarks  that 
can  be  made  here  can  scarcely  hope  to  add  much  toward  its 
solution:  but  since  transfer  in  and  into  the  realm  of  morals 
is  one  of  the  most  important  things  that  the  doctrine  of  for- 
mal discipline  has  to  deal  with,  we  must  face  the  problem, 
were  it  only  to  confess  defeat.  In  dealing  with  moral  educa- 
tion, one  principle  may  be  laid  down  as  fundamental.  If, 
and  so  far  as,  we  can  influence  morals  through  intellectual 
training,  that  is,  for  the  school,  at  least,  the  best  mode  of  at- 
tack. This  is  true  for  several  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  it 
relieves  the  serious  difficulty  met  in  finding  teachers  who  can 
give  direct  moral  training.  A  teacher  who  inculcates,  by 
command  of  the  school  board,  moral  principles  which  find  but 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  379 

a  small  place  in  his  own  life,  can  scarcely  avoid  making  the 
instruction  seem  a  mockery  to  his  pupils:  yet  in  selecting 
teachers,  it  would  only  put  a  premium  on  hypocrisy  and  time- 
serving, to  go  into  their  moral  qualifications  more  minutely 
than  we  now  do,  in  demanding  that  they  measure  up  to  cer- 
tain broad,  easily  ascertainable  standards.  The  roots  of  char- 
acter lie  too  deep  to  be  reached  by  any  objective  tests:  and 
it  is  so  easy  to  ''  assume  a  virtue  if  you  have  it  not,"  with 
sufficient  verisimilitude  to  deceive  the  average  man,  that  we 
could  scarcely  expect  moral  tests  to  improve  the  personnel 
of  the  teaching  profession,  eopecially  since  every  vigorous 
character  would  resent  them,  and  leave  the  profession  by  the 
shortest  route,  rather  than  submit.  In  the  second  place,  there 
is  always  danger  that  direct  moral  teaching  will  become  either 
so  aridly  intellectual  that  it  will  have  no  meaning  in  terms  of 
action,  in  the  children's  minds,  and  may  even  rub  the  bloom  of 
their  youthful  enthusiasms ;  or  else  so  sentimental  and  goody- 
goody  as  to  repel  the  sturdier  characters,  and  confirm  the 
others  in  their  priggish  tendencies.  Again,  direct  moral  teach- 
ing must  have  to  do  very  largely  with  particular  acts.  People 
demand  tangible  results,  and  this  is  the  easiest  way  to  get 
them:  and  besides,  only  a  rare  teacher  could  deal  with  any- 
thing like  moral  principles,  without  talking  over  the  pupils' 
heads.  The  result,  then,  of  the  usual  moral  training  must 
be  to  develop  a  purely  formal  morality,  consisting  merely  of 
particular  habits  of  behavior.  An  extreme  picture  of  what 
such  moral  training  can  do  in  an  earnest,  conscientious  man, 
is  seen  in  Victor  Hugo's  character  portrait  of  Javert. 

If  we  can  reach  morals  through  the  intellect,  giving  a  firm 
basis  for  a  sound  morality,  but  leaving  each  one  to  work  out 
his  own  character,  we  avoid  all  these  difficulties.  Everyone 
wants  and  needs,  of  course,  the  help  of  others  in  forming  his 
character,  but  he  naturally  seeks  this  help  personally  and  pri- 
vately, not  through  the  medium  of  class  work.  Can  we  find 
this  desired  intellectual  basis,  to  be  taught  in  school,  for  the 
formation  of  character?  In  several  ways,  I  think.  First, 
through  the  "  intellectual  conscience."  This  roots  less  deeply 
in  sentiment  than  does  the  moral  conscience,  and  so  is  less 
liable  to  perversion,  and  easier  to  reach.  Intellectual  hon- 
esty, for  example,  is  simply  freedom  from  self-deception. 
Generally  speaking,  no  one  is  eager  to  deceive  himself,  so 
the  teacher  has  little  trouble  in  enlisting  the  will.  He  needs 
only  to  prepare  his  pupils  against  the  errors  into  which 
thought  readily  falls,  and  so  far  as  they  learn  to  think  soundly, 
they  will  be  intellectually  honest.  But  one  who  is  honest  with 
himself  is  far  more  likely  to  be  honest  with  other  people, 


380  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

because  he  has  acquired  the  technique  of  honesty — and  a  great 
part  of  the  dishonesty  in  the  world  is  due  to  sheer  inability 
to  tell  the  truth — and  because  honesty  seems  to  him  more  a 
thing  to  be  desired,  than  to  one  in  whose  mind  the  distinction 
between  truth  and  falsehood  is  less  clear. 

A  second  way  of  reaching  morals  through  intellect  has  al- 
ready been  foreshadowed,  in  the  section  on  ideals  and  goal- 
ideas.  The  laws  of  morality  are  only  means  to  an  end :  the 
realization  of  ideals.  One  who  has  learned  to  orient  his  in- 
tellectual aims  by  his  ideals  is  the  readier  to  guide  his  con- 
duct in  the  same  way.  Let  him  link  up  his  moral  principles 
with  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  they  will  gain  both  in  dignity 
and  compelling  power.  Duty  gets  a  richer  meaning;  con- 
science is  recognized  as  a  friend  to  be  cherished.  This  ap- 
proach, then,  through  intellect  to  morals,  depends  on  bringing 
ideals  to  conscious  recognition,  and  developing  the  judgment, 
as  a  power  of  selecting  the  right  means  to  realize  ideals. 

A  third  means  of  moral  influence,  less  distinctly  intellectual, 
but  a  purer  case  of  transfer,  is  through  pre-forming  moral 
judgments.  We  see  ourselves  as  other  see  us,  much  more 
clearly,  if  we  have  first  contemplated  and  judged  the  given 
act  in  someone  else — even  in  a  character  of  fiction.  The  parable 
of  the  ewe  lamb,  which  the  prophet  Nathan  used  to  bring 
David's  crime  home  to  him,  is  an  illustration  of  this.  If, 
then,  through  stories,  children  in  school  have  a  chance  to 
judge  coolly  and  without  personal  bias  certain  modes  of 
behavior,  those  pre-formed  judgments  are  there  as  a  basis 
from  which  to  judge  their  own  behavior.  The  extent  of  the 
transfer  depends  on  how  fully  they  realize  the  identity  between 
their  own  acts  and  the  others  on  which  they  have  passed 
judgment. 

But  one  caution  must  be  added:  if  we  substitute  the 
approach  to  morals  through  the  intellect,  for  the  direct  ap- 
proach, no  one  must  infer  that  all  reference  to  morals  should 
be  banished  from  the  schools.  It  should  not  be  made  a  sub- 
ject of  formal  instruction,  because  morality  at  its  best  pos- 
sesses a  spontaneity  and  naivete  which  formal  instruction 
tends  to  spoil:  but  on  the  other  hand,  to  avoid  all  reference 
to  it  as  taboo  would  be  just  as  bad  as  the  other  extreme  of 
lugging  it  in  by  force  wherever  possible.  Morality  is  as  nat- 
ural to  humanity  as  is  breathing,  and  one  should  feel  as  little 
constraint  in  speaking  of  the  one  as  of  the  other.  Any  de- 
parture from  spontaneity,  in  either  direction,  will  throw  an 
atmosphere  of  unreality  around  the  whole  subject,  in  the 
minds  of  most  children. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  381 

The  Mechanism  of  Transfer 

The  reader  may  have  noticed  that  throughout  the  whole 
of  our  study  thus  far,  we  have  emphasized  the  fact  that  under 
certain  conditions,  knowledge  and  training  may  transfer:  it 
remains  to  inquire  what  principles  determine  whether  or  not 
this  transfer  will  come  about.  These  determining  factors  are 
two,  the  one  functioning  as  the  medium,  the  other  as  the 
motive  power. 

I :  The  Law  of  Analogy.  It  is  a  commonplace  to  say  that 
one  cannot  expect  to  meet  any  two  situations  that  are  exactly 
alike;  yet  we  are  constantly  treating  situations  as  identical 
with  other  situations  which  we  have  already  met,  and  we 
treat  still  more  situations  as  sufficiently  like  something  in  our 
past  experience  to  be  met  in  the  same  way.  The  moral  code, 
the  legal  code,  and  any  kind  of  general  rules  or  principles  are 
only  possible  because  of  this  tendency.  But  how  and  why 
do  our  minds  come  to  behave  in  this  way?  It  is  due  in  the 
beginning  to  the  fact  that  we  perceive  incompletely,  and 
quickly  forget  even  the  greater  part  of  what  we  perceive. 
Consequently  situations  that  are  not  alike  look  alike  to  us, 
through  our  not  noticing  their  points  of  difference.  Some 
kinds  of  similarity,  as  has  been  noticed  earlier  in  this  paper, 
will  set  off  habitual  or  instinctive  tendencies  to  respond,  with- 
out the  interference  of  conscious  volition,  or  even  in  defiance 
of  it.  These  give  us  the  pure  "  functioning  of  identical  ele- 
ments "  which  has  been  so  widely  held  to  be  the  sole  explana- 
tion of  apparent  transfer:  the  elements  may  not  be  objectively 
identical,  but  they  are  subjectively  so.  But  as  our  observation 
becomes  more  accurate  and  our  knowledge  more  extensive, 
we  come  to  detect  differences  in  situations  that  once  looked 
alike,  and  where  we  once  through  ignorance  treated  situations 
as  wholly  identical,  we  now  for  convenience  treat  them  as  in 
some  degree  identical,  though  recognizing  them  as  different. 
Thus  we  have  the  genesis  of  analogy,  the  principle  which  lies 
at  the  bottom  of  all  thought,  and  without  which  all  learning 
would  be  worthless,  because  without  it  we  could  not  bring 
what  we  learn  today  to  bear  on  the  new  situations  which  we 
have  to  meet  tomorrow.  The  syllogism,  that  once  supposed 
instrument  of  exact  thinking  and  of  certainty,  is  only  a  for- 
mula for  reducing  analogy  to  its  lowest  terms.  All  inference 
is  transfer,  and  the  transfer  may  be  either  of  knowledge,  as 
when  we  infer  from  the  ratio  between  diameter  and  circum- 
ference of  a  circle  in  geometry  to  the  ratio  between 
the  diameter  and  the  circumference  of  the  earth;  or 
it    may    be    transfer    more    strictly    of    training,    as    when 


382  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

we  use  the  principles  of  construction  learned  in  geom- 
etry, in  building  a  house.  These  are  cases  of  transfer  between 
what  we  think  of  as  closely  related  fields :  but  what  we  think 
of  as  related  fields  depends  very  much  on  custom  and  the 
state  of  our  knowledge.  Custom  cannot  create  relationships, 
but  it  can  blind  us  to  those  that  exist.  The  relation  between 
biology  and  psychology  was  scarcely  recognized  until  after  the 
middle  of  the  last  century:  and  every  new  application  of 
science  to  practical  life  is  the  discovery  of  a  new  relationship, 
obvious  enough  when  recognized,  perhaps,  but  long  un- 
thought-of. 

All  transfer,  then,  is  accomplished  through  the  recognition 
of  similarity  in  difference:  that  is,  through  analogy.  All  ef- 
fective transfer  is  based  on  recognition  of  fundamental  simi- 
larities, and  on  making  correct  adaptations  to  the  accompany- 
ing differences.  This  requires  patient,  careful  thinking,  and 
a  sound  knowledge  of  the  fields  or  facts  which  are  brought 
into  relationship.  There  are  relationships  everywhere:  it  is 
our  business  to  find  them,  and  also  not  to  be  deceived  by 
superficial  analogies.  The  type  of  thinking  in  philosophy,  to 
take  an  example,  is  essentially  the  same  as  that  used  in  work- 
ing out  a  new  hypothesis  from  experimental  studies  in  science : 
but  few  philosophers  would,  in  attempting  to  transfer  their 
training  to  the  field  of  science,  take  care  to  notice  also  the 
differences,  and  adapt  themselves  to  their  new  data;  and  we 
might  name  scientists  who  have  been  equally  unintelligent  on 
their  part,  and  made  of  themselves  bad  amateur  philosophers. 
Again,  "  History  repeats  itself  " — that  is,  Greek  and  Roman 
history,  or  any  other,  as  well  as  our  own,  is  full  of  instructive 
analogies,  but  they  lie  deep  down ;  almost  invariably,  those 
who  go  to  history  for  proofs  and  illustrations,  fix  on  super- 
ficial analogies  which  neither  prove  nor  illustrate.  Analogy, 
then,  is  the  one  sole  medium  of  thought  and  of  transfer,  but" 
analogy  may  go  wrong:  we  have  yet  to  speak  of  the  power 
through  whose  action  analogy  is  made  to  go  right. 

II:  The  Constructive  Imagination.  When  one  turns  from 
action  and  perception  to  thought,  he  retires  to  a  world  of  his 
own,  of  images  and  concepts — he  commits  a  sort  of  retreat 
from  reality.  The  value  of  this  human  ability  to  substitute 
thinking — manipulation  of  concepts  and  images — for  man- 
ipulation of  things,  cannot  be  overestimated ;  but  it  brings  us 
to  a  halt  before  the  paradox  which  it  involves.  To  think,  we 
must  turn  away  from  objective  reality:  to  discover  truth, 
either  new  or  old,  by  our  thinking,  we  must  keep  in  constant 
and  continuous  touch  with  objective  reality.  One  whose 
thought  retreats  from  reality  and  stays  in  its  retreat,  may 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  383 

become  a  dialectician,  a  clever  juggler  of  words  and  concepts, 
but  he  never  will  become  a  fruitful  thinker  even  in  a  small 
way.  All  unquestioning  acceptance  of  authority  ,and  reason- 
ing from  it,  no  matter  how  true  the  authority  may  be,  com- 
mits this  error ;  for  such  reasoning  is  not  based  on  life,  and 
consequently  the  reasoner  himself  cannot  properly  understand 
what  either  he  or  his  authority  says.  It  is  always  true  that 
any  great  thinker's  avowed  followers  are  his  worst  enemies. 

To  correct  this  tendency  of  thought  to  become  unreal,  is  the 
function  of  the  imagination,  which  I  define  as  the  power  of 
mind  that  brings  thought  into  rapport  with  reality.  Its  one 
dominant  characteristic  is  unswerving  fidelity  to  essential 
truth:  it  leaps  straight  to  the  significance  of  what  it  contem- 
plates ;  it  catches  the  spirit  of  facts  and  events.  Ribot,  though 
his  treatment  of  the  imagination  differs  in  many  respects  from 
that  suggested  here,  notes  clearly  the  principle  underlying  this. 
He  says  of  the  imagination :  "  It  reveals  a  power  superior  to 
the  conscious  individual,  strange  to  him  although  acting 
through  him :  a  state  which  many  inventors  have  expressed  in 
the  words,  '  I  counted  for  nothing  in  that,'  "  (20,  p.  52).  And 
again,  "  the  moment  of  inspiration  is  ruled  by  a  perfect  and 
spontaneous  unity:  its  impersonality  approaches  that  of  the 
forces  of  nature,"  (20,  p.  86).  Ribot  is  speaking  rather  of  the 
moment  of  inspiration  in  genius:  but  the  same  experience 
comes  to  all  of  us,  but  on  a  smaller  scale,  and  often  unnoticed, 
because  taken  for  granted.  We  turn  to  this  impersonal  inspi- 
ration for  truth,  because  the  unconscious  never  lies :  if  it  did, 
we  should  have  what  Plato  calls  ''  the  lie  in  the  soul."  If  we 
enlist  the  unconscious  in  our  thinking,  and  preserve  unper- 
verted  our  ability  to  read  its  deliveries,  we  have  truth  in  our 
grasp. 

To  make  good  our  definition  of  imagination,  we  must  keep 
the  distinction  made  by  Coleridge  between  imagination  and 
fancy.  Fancy  is  of  two  kinds :  the  first  kind  is  simply  imagina- 
tion at  play,  and  produces  in  literature  such  works  as  the 
"  Arabian  Nights  " ;  while  in  dealing  with  the  outside  world 
it  may  be  credited  with  the  creation  of  caricatures,  fantastic 
designs  and  structures  made  for  amusement's  sake,  and  our 
various  games.  Unlike  imagination  proper,  it  is  not  serious 
in  what  it  does :  and  it  never  forgets  the  fact.  The  other  kind 
of  fancy  results  from  an  attempt  to  eke  out  a  small  bit  of 
imagination  by  conscious  effort,  and  make  it  larger:  from 
it  flow  the  group  of  faults  in  literature  which  Ruskin  called 
"  the  pathetic  fallacy " ;  and  in  science  and  philosophy  the 
fault  of  which  amateur  and  professional  students  alike  are 
often  guilty,  of  twisting  facts  to  fit  theories.    We  notice  that 


384  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

fancy  is  not  a  separate  power  of  mind,  but  is  only  either 
adulterated  imagination,  or  imagination  in  sportive  mood. 
Only  to  avoid  confusion  is  it  desirable  to  confine  the  term 
imagination  to  those  uses  of  the  faculty  which  are  both  seri- 
ous and  sincere. 

The  imagination  is  the  only  power  through  which  new 
truth,  and  true  analogies,  can  be  discovered.  It  required  a 
sustained  effort  of  the  imagination  to  give  Darwin's  data 
sufficient  reality  in  his  mind  to  suggest  the  conclusions  in 
the  "  Origin  of  Species  " :  it  required  a  no  less  real,  though 
smaller  effort  of  the  imagination  to  effect  a  right  transfer 
of  knowledge  from  geometry  to  house-building,  or  motor 
habits  from  baseball  to  tennis.  Without  imagination  there 
may  be  transfer,  but  only  by  accident  will  it  be  advantageous. 
Imagination  is  the  eye  of  the  mind :  without  it,  we  proceed 
blindly.  To  use  another  figure,  it  works  with  our  knowledge 
like  Ezekiel  preaching  to  the  dry  bones  in  the  desert,  when 
in  response  to  his  preaching  the  bones  came  together,  were 
clothed  with  flesh,  and  became  men  once  more. 

The  imagination  is  not  subject  to  the  will:  we  cannot  com- 
mand our  moments  of  inspiration,  be  they  great  or  small; 
but  we  can  do  so  indirectly,  by  fulfilling  certain  conditions 
without  which  these  insights  will  not  come,  and  then  vv-aiting. 
The  first  of  these  conditions  is  that  we  saturate  ourselves 
as  far  as  our  situation  allows,  with  the  kind  of  knowledge 
concerning  which  we  are  seeking  insights ;  not  only  because 
we  need  the  knowledge  as  material,  but  because  we  need  the 
assurance  of  our  own  sincerity.  The  second  condition  is 
that  we  submit  to  the  impersonality  which  we  have  already 
noticed  as  a  trait  of  imagination.  Unless  we  are  willing  to 
follow  the  truth  where  it  leads,  instead  of  coercing  it  to  lead 
where  we  wish  to  go,  the  insights  which  do  come  will  be 
lost  on  us.  A  third  condition  is  a  variant  of  the  second:  we 
must  not  try  to  strait- jacket  our  thinking  into  conventional 
forms.  Forms,  though  useful,  are  dead,  and  moulded  on 
the  old.  Thought  will  not  always  fit  the  mould,  and  must 
be  free  to  take  new  forms. 

To  sum  up  briefly:  all  learning  from  experience,  all  think- 
ing, all  inference,  is  transfer:  there  are  only  differences  in 
degree.  Knowledge  and  habits  may  function  as  identical  ele- 
ments— transfer  in  a  sort  of  reflex  way — or  they  may  be 
deliberately  transferred,  applied,  through  the  discovery  by 
intelligence  of  analogies,  and  adaptation  to  new  uses.  Anal- 
ogy is  the  one  and  only  medium  of  such  transfer:  imagina- 
tion is  the  power  through  which  true  analogies  are  to  be 
found,  and  advantageous  transfers  effected. 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  385 

Practical 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  doctrine  of  formal  disci- 
pline has  much  to  do  with  the  selection  of  school  subjects, 
and  little  to  do  with  methods  of  teaching.  Certainly  many 
a  pedagogical  sin  has  been  committed  in  its  name,  in  the  last 
half-century :  many  a  fruitful  reform  has  been  opposed,  many 
a  school  subject  has  been  maintained  in  an  unfruitful  form, 
lest  "  disciplinary  values  "  be  lost.  But  if  we  take  Locke's 
position  as  representative  for  the  doctrine  of  formal  dis- 
cipline,  these  pedagogical  sins  are  to  be  regarded  as  per- 
versions grafted  onto  the  doctrine  by  those  who  misunder- 
stood it,  by  those  who  had  a  genuine  respect  and  enthusiasm 
for  culture,  but  were  unable  to  express  more  correctly  its 
educational  basis ;  and  by  those,  far  less  numerous,  who  had 
"  axes  to  grind,"  and  used  the  first  instrument  that  came 
handy.  To  increase  the  confusion,  other  perversions  have 
been  mistakenly  attributed  to  the  adherents  of  the  doctrine, 
by  their  opponents  in  controversy.  If  these  perversions  are 
taken  as  representative  of  the  doctrine  of  formal  discipline, 
then  the  trend  of  this  paper  is  away  from  that  doctrine;  but 
if  we  take  the  positions  of  Montaigne,  Locke,  Herder,  as 
representative,  then  the  theories  here  advanced  are  in  direct 
line  of  descent. 

Passing  to  the  practical  suggestions  that  follow  from  the 
theories  of  this  paper,  they  fall  into  two  groups :  those  having 
to  do  with  the  curriculum,  and  those  having  to  do  with 
methods  of  teaching: 

I.  Principles  of  teaching.  If  what  we  teach  is  to  have 
any  transfer-value — which  is  almost  equivalent  to  saying,  if 
it  is  to  have  any  practical  value — for  the  average  student,  the 
transfer  should  be  half-made  in  school.  To  make  the  trans- 
fer complete  is  to  defeat  the  purpose  of  the  school,  which  is 
to  present  experience  in  concentrated  form,  ready  to  be 
expanded  and  applied  in  later  life:  not  to  make  any  transfer 
at  all  in  the  school,  results  in  blinding  the  pupils  to  the  possi- 
bility of  transfer — in  closing  their  minds  to  the  idea  that 
theories  and  knowledge  learned  in  school  have  any  bearing 
on  every-day  life.  The  school-subjects,  then,  should,  as 
Dewey  urged,  be  related  to  life.  Pupils  in  school  must  learn 
many  things  which  cannot  be  based  on  their  present  experi- 
ence, but  a  basis  in  their  present  experience  should  be  sought 
wherever  possible.  A  student  who  has  analyzed  a  bit  of  his 
own  thinking,  will  begin  to  see  what  logic  is  all  about:  one 
who  has  studied  the  growth  of  plants  in  his  garden,  or  in 
the  woods,  is  ready  to  understand  botany.  We  cannot,  as 
Plato  imagined,  dispense  with  the  stars  and  yet  study  astron- 


386  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

omy.  This  relating  of  subjects  to  life  is  not  to  be  secured 
merely  by  getting  out  text-books  whose  problems  and  dis- 
cussions rest  on  the  life  of  the  immediate  neighborhood. 
These  will  help,  but  a  child  can  quite  easily  fail  to  recognize 
his  own  father's  farm  when  he  finds  it  in  a  text-book,  as 
many  of  our  teachers  handle  a  text-book.  The  farm-wagon 
will  look  like  Hector's  chariot,  after  it  has  gone  through 
the  mill  of  the  five  formal  steps.  If  the  teacher  is  to  relate 
to  life  the  knowledge  which  he  imparts  to  his  pupils,  it 
must  be  related  to  life  in  his  own  mind.  A  teacher  of 
Shakespeare  who  is  himself  ignorant  of  and  uninterested 
in  human  nature,  may  produce  a  few  philologists  or  rhetori- 
cians, but  he  will  never  make  literature  a  force  in  the  thought 
and  life  of  his  pupils,  which  is  certainly  the  sole  purpose  of 
teaching  literature  in  the  high  school.  A  teacher  of  physics 
who  would  make  his  pupils  more  intelligent  and  efficient  in 
every-day  aflfairs,  must  himself  be  awake  to  the  countless 
illustrations  and  applications  to  be  encountered  everywhere, 
of  the  knowledge  which  he  has  to  teach.  We  can  only  teach 
what  we  know:  if  we  would  teach  anyone  the  uses  of  the 
knowledge  which  we  have  to  impart,  we  must  understand 
those  uses,  ourselves. 

Since  the  two  great  media  of  transfer  are  intelligence  and 
imagination,  formalism  in  education  is  fatal  to  transfer. 
Formalism  deadens  both  intelligence  and  imagination.  In- 
stead of  encouraging  the  mind  to  use  all  the  resources  at 
its  command  in  dealing  with  material  both  new  and  old,  it 
insists  that  thought  shall  follow  only  certain  prescribed  chan- 
nels, in  a  certain  prescribed  way.  This  ignores  the  fact  that 
the  best  thinking  is  based  on  the  richest  variety  of  spon- 
taneous suggestions,  and  the  best  mind  is  most  fertile  in 
ideas.  Thought  must  have  forms,  to  keep  it  from  straying 
aimlessly,  but  these  forms  exist  only  for  the  sake  of  thought, 
and  it  should  be  free  to  remake  them  as  it  goes  along.  To 
condemn  a  student's  work  as  "  wrong "  because  it  is  not 
cast  in  what  the  teacher  considers  the  orthodox  forms,  is 
utterly  unpedagogical.  Formlessness  is  to  be  condemned,  but 
so  long  as  the  student's  work  is  systematic,  the  forms  which 
he  uses  may  be  judged  as  well  or  ill-aadpted  to  his  work, 
and  criticized  accordingly,  but  they  cannot  properly  be  called 
simply  "  right "  or  "  wrong."  Where  a  superintendent  com- 
mands his  principals  and  supervisors,  the  principals  and 
supervisors  command  the  teachers,  and  the  teachers  obediently 
command  the  pupils,  that  every  piece  of  work  must  be  done 
in  just  one  minutely  prescribed  way  and  no  other:  there 
we  have  the  last  word  in  unreality.    It  makes  a  fine  machine 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  387 

for  exhibition  purposes,  enables  the  superintendent  to  make 
a  beautifully  systematized  report,  and  satisfies  a  certain  ideal 
of  mechanical  efficiency — but  what  of  the  children?  Accus- 
tomed only  to  strict  obedience,  not  permitted  to  follow  out 
their  own  intellectual  tendencies,  carefully  guarded  against 
the  chance  to  meet  intellectual  difficulties  at  first  hand — lest 
they  meet  them  in  a  way  which  the  teacher  disapproves — 
they  are  less  able  to  think  independently  than  if  they  had  never 
been  to  school ;  and  one  who  does  not  think  independently, 
does  not  think  at  all.  And  no  thinking,  no  transfer.  The 
arithmetic  learned  in  school  will  not  be  used  more  than  abso- 
lute necessity  compels;  the  history  will  have  no  influence 
whatever  on  the  child  as  a  future  citizen;  the  hygiene  course 
will  not  lead  him  to  care  more  intelligently  for  sanitary  con- 
ditions at  home. 

The  effect  of  formalism  on  the  imagination  is  even  more 
serious.  Imagination  is  the  most  elusive  function  of  con- 
sciousness, and  only  perfect  sincerity  can  induce  it  to  speak, 
or  enable  us  to  hear  correctly  when  it  does  speak.  Formalism 
attempts  to  force  into  artificial  and  arbitrary  channels  the 
one  function  whose  very  nature  is  spontaneity — and  imagina- 
tion will  not  be  coerced.  It  is  well  known  that  children  who 
have  been  taught  to  draw,  with  rule  and  compass,  as  it  were, 
in  the  Kindergarten,  show  much  less  artistic  merit  in  their 
drawings  than  children  of  the  same  age  who  have  not  had 
such  training.  Any  teacher  who  has  tried  to  make  English, 
or  Latin,  or  geometry,  or  even  botany,  live  in  his  pupils' 
minds,  must  have  been  oppressed  by  the  utter  inability  of 
their  imaginations  after  eight  or  nine  years  of  schooling,  to 
seize  the  meaning  of  a  fact  presented  in  the  school-room.  The 
imagination  can  be  touched  even  then;  many  a  live  teacher 
succeeds  in  touching  it,  by  making  forms  only  ancillary,  and 
by  keeping  fresh  his  own  realization  of  the  meaning  of  what 
he  is  teaching:  but  when  a  mind  has  been  eingestellt  against 
any  hint  of  imagination  in  school  work  for  years,  it  is  no 
easy  matter  to  break  through  the  Einstellung,  and  the  slightest 
provocation  will  restore  it  to  dominance. 

Vitality  is  not  the  only  need  in  school  work:  it  should  also 
be  difficult.  This  fact  demands  emphasis  because  it  is  a  popu- 
lar fallacy  that  work  to  be  "  interesting "  must  be  sugar- 
coated,  made  easy,  that  the  disagreeable  must  be  tabooed: 
and  perhaps  some  readers  might  imply  that  this  plea  for 
imagination  in  teaching  involves  the  same  thing.  Not  at  all. 
One  who  has  in  his  school  career  never  done  anything  dis- 
agreeable, who  has  never  had  to  study  until  he  has  gained 
his  "  second  breath,"   has  missed  one  of  the  most  valuable 


388  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

results  of  an  education.  All  the  studies  of  the  learning 
process,  as  well  as  universal  experience,  prove  that  it  is 
hard  and  intense  work  that  educates.  But  there  are  abundant 
difficulties  in  the  nature  of  any  subject,  without  arbitrarily 
imposing  others ;  and  these  natural  difficulties  have  the  merit 
of  stimulating  thought  and  stirring  imagination,  while  diffi- 
culties which  the  student  feels  to  be  arbitrarily  imposed,  are 
deadening,  and  tend  to  make  most  of  the  class  feel  that 
thinking  is  not  an  important  part  of  education,  while  they 
repel  the  sturdier  minds,  and  compel  at  best  but  a  sullen 
acquiescence.  Difficulties  which  are  attacked  unwillingly, 
under  compulsion,  only  make  the  student  more  dependent 
on  his  taskmaster:  he  tends  to  lose  all  ability  to  set  himself 
tasks  and  carry  them  out  on  his  own  initiative.  But  adoles- 
cents— as,  indeed,  most  human  beings — enjoy  facing  difficul- 
ties that  are  felt  to  be  worth  while,  and  mastering  them. 
In  such  difficulties  alone  is  disciplinary  value  to  be  found. 
For  this  reason,  I  might  pause  to  add,  studies  should  be 
prescribed  only  as  a  last  resort.  One  works  better  at  a  study 
which  he  has  chosen  of  his  own  free  will.  We  must,  appar- 
ently, in  the  present  state  of  secondary  education,  have  a 
large  amount  of  prescription,  but  it  should  be  recognized  for 
what  it  is — a  necessary  evil — and  mitigated  in  every  way 
possible. 

II.  The  Curriculum.  Since  transfer  is  possible,  and,  given 
sensible  teaching,  is  assured:  therefore  we  may  lay  it  down 
as  a  first  principle  in  deciding  on  educational  values,  that 
those  subjects  whose  content  is  of  the  widest  applicability, 
are  the  first  to  be  chosen,  where  general  education  is  the 
aim.  Also,  even  in  strictly  vocational  training,  the  wider 
applicability  of  the  principles  underlying  the  rules  of  the 
trade,  should  be  brought  to  notice  wherever  possible.  This 
gives  a  better  control  over  the  rules  of  the  trade  itself,  has  a 
great  cultural  value  as  a  stimulus  to  thought,  and  most  im- 
portant of  all,  perhaps,  gives  the  one  so  educated  greater 
adaptability.  In  the  rapidly  changing  industrial  conditions 
of  the  time,  no  one  can  foresee  with  certainty  the  future  of 
any  trade.  New  inventions,  new  methods,  may  make  one's 
training  an  unsalable  article  when  he  has  barely  finished  his 
apprenticeship;  and  the  more  highly  specialized  his  skill, 
the  less  adaptable  will  he  be  to  new  conditions,  unless  he  has 
also  kept  open  avenues  of  transfer  of  training,  through  basing 
his  knowledge  and  training  on  general  principles,  and  avoid- 
ing the  formation  of  a  too  rigid  set. 

It  follows  from  this  that  pure  science  is  preferable  to 
applied  science.     Really,  pure  science  should  in  its  teaching 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  389 

methods  appraximate  to  applied  science,  since,  as  said  before, 
the  transfer  from  theory  to  practice  should  be  half-made  in 
school.  But  the  point  of  view  should  be  that  of  pure  science, 
which  concerns  itself  about  general  principles,  and  the  rela- 
tions between  them :  not  that  of  applied  science,  which  only- 
lays  down  rules  for  the  performance  of  certain  acts,  and  cares 
not  at  all  why  those  rules  hold  good.  An  empirical  formula 
is  a  block  of  offense  to  pure  mathematics ;  to  applied  mathe- 
matics, one  formula  is  as  good  as  another,  if  it  works.  In 
teaching  pure  science,  the  pupil  will  best  understand  these 
general  principles  if  he  has  arrived  at  some  of  them  by  his 
own  observation:  therefore  the  first  approach  to  a  science 
should  be  inductive,  free  from  any  special  apparatus,  and 
innocent  of  technical  terminology.  The  average  boy  would 
stand  in  awe  of  a  dollar  watch  if  he  saw  it  labelled  a  chron- 
ometer, in  a  laboratory.  The  first  two  or  three  weeks  of  a 
physics  course,  for  example,  should  be  done  without  either 
text-books  or  laboratory;  the  students  should  simply  be  set 
to  studying  intently  the  behavior  of  familiar  things,  until  they 
had  firmly  grasped  a  few  fundamental  principles.  It  would 
be  even  better  to  give  this  preliminary  work,  or  some  of  it, 
at  least,  in  the  last  week  or  two  of  the  year  preceding  the 
physics  course  itself,  so  as  to  give  the  pupils  something  to 
think  about  during  the  summer.  In  this  way  the  long  vaca- 
tion, which  is  now  very  much  a  period  of  forgetting,  would 
become  a  period  of  learning — of  learning  of  the  best  kind. 
Given  this  informal  introduction  to  the  science,  then  the  tech- 
nical names  for  the  principles  that  have  been  observed,  can 
safely  be  given,  and  the  work  with  text-book  and  laboratory 
begun.  To  do  all  the  work  inductively  would  gain  nothing, 
and  would  slow  up  the  course  intolerably;  but  a  week  of 
inductive  study  at  the  beginning  will  give  a  basis  of  under- 
standing from  which  the  pupils  will  be  able  spontaneously  to 
apply  their  knowledge  in  understanding  and  dealing  with  all 
sorts  of  everyday  problems,  as  fast  as  the  knowledge  is 
acquired.  They  have  started  out  with  a  "  tvansier-Einstel- 
lung/'  so  to  speak,  and  will  work  over  their  knowledge  as 
they  go  along:  without  this  Einstcllung,  their  knowledge 
remains  isolated,  and  every  bit  of  it  that  is  to  be  used  must 
be  worked  over  anew,  later.  Further,  this  isolation  develops 
a  feeling  of  unreality  which  is  one  of  the  hardest  of  all  mental 
sets  to  break  up. 

A  second  determining  principle  in  planning  a  curriculum, 
is  that  the  student's  course  of  study  should  contain  several 
different  kinds  of  subjects.  The  mind  will  form  sets,  espe- 
cially in  adolescence,  whether  we  wish  it  or  not;  the  school 


390  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

should  see  to  it  that  a  sufficient  number  and  variety  of  sets 
should  be  formed,  so  that  the  student  is  reasonably  well- 
equipped  on  other  sides  of  his  nature,  as  well  as  on  the  side 
that  his  future  vocation  will  develop.  This  is  needed  not 
only  for  his  own  personal  good,  but  also  because  every  man 
is  a  citizen  and  a  member  of  society,  as  well  as  a  workman. 
He  is  a  layman  with  respect  to  every  vocation  but  one,  and 
on  the  intelligent  interest  of  the  layman  depends  practically 
all  progress  in  every  line.  Without  the  pressure  of  that 
intelligent  interest  upon  them,  professionals  in  any  line  be- 
come stereotyped,  averse  to  change,  and  resist  improvements 
that  the  thoughtful  members  of  their  body  suggest. 

A  third  principle  is  that  every  one's  course  of  study  should 
be  so  chosen  that  the  different  subjects  will  supplement  each 
other  in  the  kind  of  work  provided.  The  student  should  be 
allowed  and  induced  to  do  his  own  choosing,  so  far  as  prac- 
ticable,  but  in  any  case,  the  choice  should  heed  this  principle. 
Every  subject  has  its  characteristic  effect  on  the  mind,  both 
for  good  and  bad.  The  effect  of  geometry  as  put  in  the 
passage  from  Pascal  quoted  above,  will  serve  as  an  example. 
The  course  of  study  should  be  planned  to  make  these  char- 
acteristic effects  balance  each  other.  Moreover,  every  subject 
makes  some  demand  on  powers  which,  because  that  demand 
in  the  given  subject  is  slight  and  scattered,  it  fails  to  develop 
adequately.  Thus,  to  take  an  example  from  advanced  study, 
biology  demands,  to  evaluate  its  data,  precisely  the  kind  of 
thinking  which  is  the  characteristic  feature  of  philosophical 
study,  and  it  has  also  to  deal  at  times  with  conceptions  which 
are  central  in  philosophy.  But  in  the  study  of  biology,  this  kind 
of  thinking  and  these  conceptions  play  so  small  a  part,  quanti- 
tatively speaking,  that  the  biologist  acquires  little  familiarity 
with  them,  in  his  study,  and  often  betrays  a  surprising  inca- 
pacity when  he  has  to  deal  with  them ;  and  with  it  sometimes 
an  equally  surprising  blindness  to  his  own  incapacity.  An  in- 
telligent study  of  philosophy — which  must  also  be  a  sympa- 
thetic, interested  study  of  it — would  at  the  same  time  soften 
the  arrogance  and  correct  the  incapacity.  The  same  thing 
applies,  mutatis  mutandis,  to  every  study.  Every  specialist, 
from  philosopher  to  classicist,  is  likely  to  be  arrogant  in  his 
claims,  and  to  be  handicapped  in  his  own  line  through  lack 
of  some  kind  of  knowledge  and  training  which  is  needed,  but 
not  adequately  provided,  in  specialized  study. 

Finally,  the  school  should  aim  to  teach  a  few  things  well 
and  thoroughly  to  each  student,  not  to  give  a  scattering 
knowledge  of  a  great  variety  of  subjects.  Not  content,  but 
assimilable  content,  is  what  counts  in  education,  and  before 


THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE  391 

knowledge  can  be  assimilated,  there  must  be  present  in  the 
mind  a  coherent  body  of  related  knowledge.  A  well  and 
broadly-educated  adult  can  assimilate  almost  any  bit  of 
knowledge  in  almost  any  form,  with  some  success;  but  an 
adolescent,  whose  education  is  only  beginning,  must  have 
enough  of  a  given  study  presented  to  develop  it  into  coherence. 
If  insufficient  time  is  given  to  the  study,  nothing  is  likely  to 
be  gained  from  it  but  a  chaos  of  mere  memorized  facts,  use- 
less, because  unassimilated.  Given  a  nucleus  of  three  or 
four  principal  studies,  little  excursions  into  other  lines  are 
valuable  as  means  of  starting  centers  of  apperception,  some 
of  which,  at  least,  may  be  followed  up  independently  later; 
and  as  a  means  of  helping  the  pupils  to  see  how  wide  and 
rich  the  life  of  the  world  is.  But  the  work  should  not  all 
be  little  excursions,  and  the  excursions  themselves  should  be 
given  by  methods  less  formal  than  the  studies  which  are 
especially  stressed :  set  study  should  fall  into  the  background, 
there  should  even  be  no  final  grades,  no  academic  ranking, 
on  such  work.  While  such  work  may  have  immense  poten- 
tial value,  it  has  no  present  academic  value  of  the  kind  which 
credits  should  represent,  and  we  only  deceive  ourselves  by 
pretending  that  it  has.  Besides,  "  working  for  marks  "  al- 
ways diminishes  spontaneity,  and  makes  teacher  and  pupil 
in  a  sense  natural  antagonists :  we  should  welcome  the  oppor- 
tunity to  abolish  marks  wherever  possible.  Thus  academic 
ethics  and  pedagogic  efficiency  demand  the  same  thing. 

But  returning  to  the  point  that  the  students'  course  should 
consist  mainly  in  intensive  and  thorough  study  of  a  few 
subjects:  another  reason  for  this  is  that  the  preliminary  stages 
of  any  study  are  almost  purely  memory-work,  and  to  get  any 
disciplinary  value,  or  any  cultural  value,  the  work  must  be 
carried  beyond  that  stage,  to  the  point  of  a  certain  degree 
of  mastery.  Anyone  would  recognize  that  one  who  has 
learned  to  play  the  piano  well  is  better  trained  musically  than 
one  who  has  spread  his  time  over  the  study  of  twenty  or 
thirty  instruments,  can  play  the  scale  on  all,  but  can  do 
nothing  else  on  any.  The  latter  has  spent  all  his  time  on 
elementary  details  of  technique:  the  former  has  been  able 
to  live  and  study  on  planes  of  musical  significance  of  which 
the  other  has  no  knowledge.  We  recognize  this  in  music,  but 
in  school-study  it  is  overlooked.  Even  on  the  well-established 
principle  of  the  hierarchy  of  habits,  the  second  year  of  a 
subject  should  have  more  cultural  value  than  the  first;  the 
third  than  the  second.  It  should  be  recognized,  and  never 
forgotten,  that  higher  mental  habits  are  more  generic,  are 
more  readily  transferable,  than  lower;  and  that  the  fact  of 


392  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

having  worked  through  all  or  nearly  all  the  stages  of  the 
learning  process  in  any  one  subject,  furnishes  a  basis  of 
guidance  in  attacking  any  subject,  which  basis  is  often  suf- 
ficient to  cut  years  off  the  time  required  for  a  new  subject. 

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4iop. 


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